


You'll Accompany Me

by indiepjones46



Series: Death Becomes Her [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Adventure is Afoot, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, All the cool kids are doing it, Anal Fingering, Angst, BAMF Karen Page, Bad guys die, Be cool and read it, Bonus Chapter, Did I mention graphic violence?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frank Goes Full Punisher, Frank Still Has Secrets, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Harlem, Harlequin ain't got shit on me, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, I won't leave you hanging, It's been a while, Jessica and Luke are Tragic, Junior Avengers Assemble, Kidnapping, Luke and Jessica have chemistry, Luke intimidates me, Mami's chicken enchiladas, Marking, Morning Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Porny porn porn, Post- The Defenders S1, Post-Jessica Jones S2, Post-The Punisher S1, Potential Spoilers, Sex Trafficking, Shameless Smut, So does Karen, Sorry Not Sorry, Triggers, UDS (Unnecessarily Detailed Smut), Violence, Work In Progress, beautiful smut, but I love him, curse words, i love porn, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 51,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiepjones46/pseuds/indiepjones46
Summary: Four months after the night Frank Castle killed Brady Callahan and saved her life, Karen's life has changed. She was no longer alone in the world; now, she had a partner. Being in a relationship with Frank Castle came with certain risks, but the rewards far outweighed the cost. Even if it cost her soul.It had only been four months, but Karen Page had managed to stitch herself into every part of his life. She was his confidante, his partner, his nurse, and his lover. He couldn't bring himself to admit the depth of his need for her, so he proved it with his body and his blood. He just hoped it was enough.When trouble inevitably finds them, old friends will join new friends to protect the people of Hell's Kitchen together. Even if it costs them their lives.





	1. Frank Needs Stitches

“Who was it this time? Do I even want to know?” she asked, her tone caustic and stinging like the alcohol she dabbed against the knife wound bleeding sluggishly across his left pec.

Frank Castle sat on the toilet in her apartment, shirtless, while the curvy, lithe form of Karen Page hovered over him armed with a bloody, threaded needle and alcohol-soaked gauze. It was a situation that he had grown familiar with over the past four months, and that worried him. He didn’t care that his body was decorated with still-pink scars from the many injuries he had sustained since that fateful night four months ago; he was worried about the fact that she had been the one to patch him up each time.

He had tried to keep his self-appointed missions a secret from her at first, but she had always been two steps ahead of him. No matter how he tried to cover his tracks, she always instinctively knew when he was on the hunt. The very first time he’d snuck around planning an op, she had acted as if nothing had changed. Her bubbly personality had never waned, and she had not looked upon him with suspicion. But when he had struggled home to his apartment at 4:30 am one Saturday morning with a through-and-through gunshot to his thigh, she had been waiting for him inside his apartment. Without a word, she had begun to strip him of weapons and his bloody clothes before clinically assessing the damage to his body. She’d even had a large tackle box of medical supplies handy, and she’d been as thorough and sure-handed as a registered nurse. He’d offered no excuse for his injuries, but it hadn’t been necessary. She’d already known.

Since that night, two weeks after the double murder/suicide of Senator Martin Gilliam, Frank had continued to hunt down the human scum that fouled his city, but he no longer tried to keep Karen at a distance from it. It had been an exercise in futility to believe that he could ever keep her separate from The Punisher. He was no match for her cunning intuition and blinding determination, and he had long ago accepted the fact that she was much smarter than him. Over the past four months, she’d sewn her way into every corner of his life even as she’d stitched his skin closed and patched his soul. They saw each other every single day now, even if for only an hour or two. Most nights, they spent sleeping together in the same bed, be it his or hers, and they each had keys for both places. Their lives had become inexplicably entwined, and the intimacy of their relationship terrified him. Karen Page had become the very air that he breathed to survive, and the thought of losing her like he’d lost Maria and the kids drove him ever closer to true insanity. The harder he fought to keep her safe, the more danger dogged her heels. He couldn’t leave her, she refused to let him, but the longer he stayed, the greater her chances of being hurt grew.

“I don’t know, doll,” he replied sarcastically to mask his fear. “You tell me. You always seem to have all the answers. Who do you think it was this time?”

Karen’s shell pink lips tightened, and her slim fingers were merciless as she pressed a clean bandage over the fresh stitches barely an inch above his left nipple. “We both know it was Paul Conger, the human trafficker I wrote about for the paper two days ago. I told you to let the cops handle it. Their investigation was close to breaking wide open, and the leads they had garnered from my article would have netted them more than just Conger. They could have gotten the name of his source in Germany. Dozens of young refugee women are being lured into sexual slavery with the promise of arrival in America, and the death of one trafficker will not make that stop. They needed the source, Frank, and you just killed their only lead.”

Frank grunted in complaint as she punctuated her speech by pushing away from his body via his newly-bandaged wound. He knew she was really pissed when she deliberately closed her medicine kit without giving him anything for pain. He didn’t like it when Karen was furious with him; it rarely ended up with them both naked, and that had become his primary mission in life of late. He would do just about anything if it meant he would get to feast on her soft breasts and sink himself inside the hot, slick depths of her body. Sex with Karen was more than just fucking; it was a goddamn experience. The intensity of his need for her only added to the wildfire of fear consuming his every waking and sleeping thought until even the thought of her made his pulse race and his dick hard. Unfortunately, it appeared that this night would not end satisfactorily for either of them.

He watched her closely and tried to read the roadmap of emotions in her body language as she cleaned up the stained clothes and towels and threw away the detritus of her ministrations to his skin. Her movements were sharp and efficient, even though it was currently two in the morning, and her narrowed eyes betrayed no hint of weariness from her interrupted night’s sleep. She was wide awake and very, very angry with him.

Time for evasive maneuvers. “That’s where you’re wrong, doll,” Frank informed her as he stood to his bare feet and tested the pull of the stitches in his chest. “Conger may be dead, but he didn’t go quietly.”

Karen spun on her bare toes to confront him with by jabbing her finger into his uninjured pec. “Of course, you got the name! That’s not the point I’m trying to make here, Frank!” she exploded with frustration. “The point I’m trying to make is that you needlessly inserted yourself into a situation that didn’t need your help. You didn’t have to kill him! Paul Conger could have been forced into imprisonment just like all his victims. That is justice, Frank. Him being dead is too good a punishment for him. Too fast.”

Frank crowded into her space until she was backed up against the bathroom wall with barely two inches between his naked torso and the cotton-covered tips of her breasts. Frank held her fiery gaze with his own and silently wondered how he did not ignite into flames. He wanted to close the distance between them and lose himself the in the scent of her shampoo and the feel of her nails digging crescent moons into skin, but he would never use sex as a weapon to control her. She deserved better than that from him, and he steeled himself to withstand the arctic wind of her anger. “I thought you knew me better than that, doll,” he rumbled as they sized each other up cautiously. “He suffered for his sins before I twisted his neck and ended him. Breathing is too good a reward for that scumbag.”

He watched as the ring of blue narrowed with the dilation of her pupils, and his confidence increased as her chest started to rise and fall with her breaths. Pink tendrils of blush chased over the arch of her pale throat until they teased at the curve of her cheeks. Her voice wavered as she replied breathily, “How long did he last before he finally told you the name of his source in Germany?”

Frank’s cock grew thick with blood as he watched her tongue dart out to moisten her bottom lip. “He gave me the name in the first ten minutes. He didn’t die for another two hours.”

Her body swayed towards him of its own volition, but she regained her distance quickly. “How will you get the information to the feds without incriminating yourself?” she demanded with dogged determination. “What good is a name if you can’t do anything about it?”

Frank closed his eyes against the dizziness swamping his senses that assaulted him each time she was near him. He had foolishly assumed the feeling would wane as he spent more time with her, but the opposite was true. Her affect on him only intensified with each passing day, and Frank had no idea how to handle it. He inhaled deeply and released it slowly before he answered, “That’s Micro’s job. He’ll be done collecting the digital footprints for the source by morning, and he will deliver it to Interpol and the FBI through his Rising Tide contacts. My involvement won’t be revealed, I promise.”

As if she could no longer stop herself, her fingers reached out to trace over the ridges of his abdomen as she replied softly, “You have an answer for everything, too.” Her other hand joined the first in exploring the trenches of muscle mere inches away from where his cock strained against the fly of his jeans. Her tone grew harder even as her fingertips danced along his skin. “I don’t like it when you bleed, Frank. Especially when you could have avoided it in the first place.”

Frank’s pulse raced through his veins and the muscles in his groin tightened with anticipation. Still, he didn’t touch her back. “Ignored it, you mean. Have I given you any reason to believe that I will ignore scumbags like Conger over the course of us knowing each other?” He paused to suck in a ragged breath as her fingers skimmed over the bulge behind his zipper. His fists clenched to keep from reaching for her. He forced himself to add, “You knew what you were signing up for when you asked me to fuck you for the first time. I can’t change who I am anymore, doll. This is who I am now.”

She leaned into him, closed her eyes, and inhaled the scent of his skin along his neck until the breath of her lips tickled his ear. “I know,” her words ghosted into his ear. Her palm curled around his length, and he hissed as she squeezed him with the perfect amount of pressure. “I know who you are, Frank, but do you know who you are to _me_? You are important to me, and I don’t want you to be hurt or imprisoned. Just...be careful. Please.”

Her words had the power to break his will, and he pressed her into the bathroom wall with his hips. He cradled her jaw in his hand and he leaned in until their lips shared the same breath. “I’m always careful, doll. I know what I’m protecting.”

Her hands found purchase in the muscles along his spine, and she pulled him into her. His lips closed the distance to hers, and he flowed between them to taste the hint of toothpaste on her tongue. She met him with equal fervor and her fingernails bit into his skin with her hold. One taste was not enough for him. He pushed down on her chin with his thumb and opened her to his assault. He swallowed her desperate whimpers and fed her his groans as she struggled to open the button on his jeans.

He tried to reorder his thoughts and gain back a slip of control over himself, but he was lost to her. Karen’s passion and desire for sex exceeded his own, and he was powerless to resist the siren song of her body moving against his. His free hand slid along the outside of her naked thigh, raking her nightshirt up along the way. He thought he would embarrass himself when he realized she wasn’t wearing panties at the same time she freed his cock from its prison from behind denim and cotton. His fingers found the slick, hot center of her like a homing beacon, and she cried out as he dipped into the well of her pleasure before retreating to swirl and tease at her clit.

She broke away from him to pant, “No time. Now, Frank.” She turned her back to him and braced her arms against the solid wall before pushing her ass into the cradle of his hips.

They were almost evenly matched in height, and that made it easy for him to guide his length to the opening of her body and push inside with one, hard thrust. Their groans of pleasure mixed with harmonious melody as she pushed herself back on his length to take him even deeper. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and the stitches in his chest gave a twinge of discomfort, but none of that mattered to him. The only thing that mattered was the fit of her hipbones in his palms, the smell of her arousal flooding his senses, and sound of her voice begging him for more. His blood pumped with a mixture of adrenaline and lust, a potent combination that only she could inspire, and it drove him like a piston as he fucked her hard and fast.

Her fingernails scratched furrows in the faded wallpaper of her bathroom as she met him thrust for thrust, and he felt a twinge of jealousy that the marks weren’t on his back instead. “Yes, oh, God, Frank!” she breathed, her words punctuated by the slap of their hips. “Fuck me harder. Make me feel it!”

His body was tied in knots of willpower to keep himself from spilling too soon. He had to keep some semblance of control when he was with her, or he would lose himself completely to her spell. He snapped his hips hard and held his cock buried deep until she cried out with frustration that echoed his own. He gripped her long, blonde hair in one fist to free up the pale expanse of her neck for his rough kisses. “You know the rules, doll,” Frank panted against her ear. “I don’t come until you do.”

She pushed against his hold with an angry noise, but she still dropped a hand down between her legs where they were joined. When her fingers began to move against her clit, Frank resumed his punishing pace. He focused on the reactions of the woman beneath him to take his mind off the overwhelming need to complete the mission and witnessed the tell-tale signs of her impending orgasm. Her cheeks were stained with the glow of red blood rising beneath the moonlight of her skin, her pink lips were parted and swollen to allow her moans to escape, and the muscles of her lean calves began to quiver with stress as her pussy clamped down on him like a vice. Frank recognized the signs, because he had systematically identified and categorized every detail of Karen’s body in the past four months. She was already teetering on the precipice of her own release, which meant that he wouldn’t have to wait for long to appease his own needs.

He pounded into her without mercy, and she answered him by raising onto her tiptoes to open herself up further to him. Her legs shook beneath the force of her body’s reaction to him, and a wail of agony and bliss bloomed in the small confines of the room as she finally toppled over into climax. Her fingers stopped moving between her legs, but the rest of her tremored and shook beneath his grip as her channel squeezed and released in a maddening massage that stole the last of his strength. With a filthy curse, he slammed himself deep inside of her and came with shuddering grunts of staggering release. All the adrenaline, all the fear, and all the tension in his soul was poured out of him and into her willing body until he felt dizzy from the loss of it.

He pinned her to the wall by his hips and panted against her neck to regain his focus and thoughts. Her eyes were tightly closed as she struggled to breathe, and he kissed and bit along the skin beneath the loose collar of her nightshirt just to see the visible marks of his claim advertised on her skin. She never complained of the fingertip-shaped bruises that constantly marked the trench of her hips or the broken blood vessels that littered her body in the wake of his passion. In fact, he’d noticed that she often unconsciously touched them beneath her clothes during the day, even when she was absorbed in writing a story or speaking on the phone, as if to check that the marks were still there. It was a hellish conundrum for him, one fraught with both guilt and satisfaction, but he couldn’t seem to help himself from renewing the marks each time they came together.

He finally caught his breath long enough to mutter, “I wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction from you, but I’m not complaining.”

Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter and her legs tremored beneath the weight of him bearing down on her. “Neither was I, to be honest, but it was either sex or fighting, and you’d already done enough of the latter for the night.”

He couldn’t fault her logic, and he was more than content with her choice. Hell, he was downright grateful. He finally pulled away from her, and they both groaned as his cock gave way to gravity once more as distance forced it from her snug sheath. Her nightshirt had been rucked up around her waist, but it fell over her hips as she straightened her spine. He was disappointed when the evidence of his claim running down the slope of her thighs disappeared from his view.

As his endorphins ebbed away, his body began to remember the pain of his wounds and he winced as he finished the job of shedding his jeans, boots, and socks while Karen reopened her kit to fish out several pills from unmarked bottles. As if from long practice, he busied himself turning the faucet knobs of her shower as she stripped out of her nightshirt and pulled two towels from the cupboard beneath the sink. Frank held the shower curtain back, and Karen stepped inside as she handed him the assortment of pills. He popped them in his mouth without question and joined her beneath the hot spray of water where he gathered her in close to his chest. She lay her head over his uninjured pec and just held on to him without a word.

Karen’s silence always worried him, because it happened so rarely. She was a naturally bubbly and clever woman and so full of life that her silence was always shocking and alarming. He might be a master at reading her body language, but her mind was a mystery that he feared he would never solve. That didn’t mean that he would ever stop trying.

He reached out to grab the bar of soap on the ledge and began to lather her skin starting at her shoulders. He loved to have any excuse to touch her, so communal showers had become a thing for them. As he ran his soapy hands over the relaxed muscles of her back, he murmured, “You still mad at me, doll?”

She hummed lazily deep in her throat before replying softly, “No, I’m not mad at you, Frank. I’m mad at myself.”

That brought him up short and he gripped her shoulders, so they could look eye-to-eye. Her blue eyes looked huge in her elfin face, her hair was dark and plastered to the curves of her body, and water drops beaded and trembled on her spiked eyelashes. She was so goddamned beautiful that it hurt. “Hey, you got no reason to be mad at yourself and every reason to be pissed as hell at me. You haven’t done a damn thing wrong, you hear me?”

She dropped her gaze to his chest and stole the bar of soap from his tenuous grip and began to move it across his chest. “That’s not true. I’m just as flawed and fucked up as you, Frank, but at least you’re honest about it. I’m not.”

He struggled to understand what she was trying to tell him, but he knew better than to assume anything with her. He was nearly always wrong. “I thought you understood by now that there’s nothing you can say that would shock me, doll.”

Her bottom lip trembled, but her tone was even when she finally spoke. “It shocks _me_. That’s the problem. I’m having trouble accepting certain things about myself and I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

His heart began pounding with the familiar fear of loss, and his mouth turned to dust. He knew that whatever she was going to say had to be because of him and his presence in her life. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to meet his gaze. His tone was raspy when he demanded, “Tell me all of it, Karen. Don’t sugarcoat it and don’t apologize for it.”

Her eyes blinked against the spray of water, but her gaze held firm as she confessed, “I wanted you to kill Paul Conger, and I’m happy that he’s dead. I feel no remorse or guilt over any of the deaths that have happened since the night you killed Brady Callahan to save my life. None of them valued the lives of others, therefore I don’t value theirs and feel nothing but satisfaction that they will never hurt anyone ever again.”

Her words fell like stones between them. His immediate reaction was to tell her not to worry or that her confession was nothing to be ashamed of, but he could see the toll of her secret etched in the misery of her pretty blue eyes. He knew she still sought solace and forgiveness every few weeks at Holy Cross even though she never spoke about religious faith of her own. Trite assurances or brushing away her concerns would do nothing to help to her.

He chose his next words carefully. “Do you think feeling that way makes you a bad person or damns your soul to hell? Help me understand why you struggle with this.”

Karen gently pulled away from his hold and began to lather her hair with shampoo. He had a feeling she was using that as an excuse not to look at him. “Yes...no...I don’t know. Part of me believes in the sanctity of life, but there’s another part of me that thinks some people don’t deserve to live for the terrible things they do. I’ve spent enough time in court rooms and writing articles to have lost faith in the justice system. I’ve seen too many good people die, and too many bad ones prosper. I’m sick of it.”

Frank waited for her to rinse the bubbles from her hair before handing her the bottle of conditioner. “If that’s the case, then how do I fit into this crisis of faith?”

She smoothed the creamy mixture through her long tresses before she finally replied, “I feel like I should condemn the things you do at night as The Punisher, but I don’t. I can’t condemn you for doing the things that I’m too afraid to do myself, things I wish I was brave enough to do, too. Instead, I hide behind words while you bleed. I’m a coward, Frank.”

You could have knocked him over with a feather after her words finished echoing off the walls of the narrow confines of the tub. He reached down to turn off the cooling water and gathered her shivering, goose-pimpled body into his arms and held her tight. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again, you hear me?” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “What I do is easy. I pull a trigger and my mission is done, but you? You don’t wait for the enemy to become a target; you go looking for them and expose them to the world. You make _yourself_ a target to lure them out of hiding. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known, Karen Page.”

He couldn’t tell if the droplets of water rolling down his chest were from the shower or her tears, but her tone betrayed the truth. “Stop making me feel better, you jerk. You’re the one with forty stitches keeping your skin together. I should be comforting you, not the other way around,” she complained with weak, weepy laughter as she stepped backward out of his embrace.

Frank was both relieved and troubled that Karen would deflect the topic so quickly. He could read it in her body language that she was done discussing it for now. He had a choice to make: he could either press forward and force her to open up, or he could let her retreat and regroup to form a new strategy. Even though it went against the grain, he chose the latter. He forced his tone to sound teasing and replied lightly, “Oh, you’ve already ‘comforted’ me good, doll, but if you want to do it again, I won’t argue.”

Karen retrieved their towels and handed one to him as she began rubbing her sopping hair with her own. Her gaze was solid, but guarded, as she replied with a weak smile, “I think we’re both comforted out for now, don’t you?” Her smile faded at the edges before she added, “I really just want to fall asleep with you and have you be the first thing I see in the morning.”

He had his new mission, and the only thing left to do was to carry it out. So, he did.

Without a word, he wrapped his towel around her body before scooping her up into his arms. She yelped with surprise but settled quickly against his chest as he carried her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. With one hand, he drew back the covers on her neatly-made bed and settled her under the covers. His skin pebbled as the cool air hit the remaining drops of water, but he paid it no heed as he went about the small apartment checking the locks on the door and windows. He stopped at the bathroom to apply a new, dry bandage and brush his teeth before he joined her in the bed. He paused to check the loaded gun on the bedside table and reached to turn off the lamp before sliding under the covers. In a routine too familiar to be déjà vu, Karen rolled onto her side so that she could be the little spoon to his big spoon.

In seconds, his eyelids grew heavy as the warmth of her body seeped into his to ease the aches and pains of battle. He was just about to drift off to sleep when Karen’s soft voice carried to his ear. “Frank?”

“Hmm?” he acknowledged her sleepily.

“I still don’t like it when you bleed. I need every bit of you. Every drop of your blood is mine, too, you hear me?” she demanded, her words heavy with hidden meaning.

He smiled against her damp, floral-scented hair and replied, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”


	2. Karen is a Reporter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sorry for the delay. I wanted to be very careful with this chapter, so I did some research first. I wanted to make sure I would do this character justice before publishing it, because I am by no means an expert.**

The next evening, Karen made her way down the busy streets of Hell’s Kitchen for her standing Thursday night appointment for drinks with her friend, Jessica Jones. It was Thursday night, and that meant that Frank would be busy attending his buddy’s group therapy for veterans. It was best that he not be there for drinks with Jessica, in any case; the two of them together were almost too much assholery for Karen to handle at once.

She shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets and wished that springtime would arrive in New York City. Even though it was late March, the temperature in the evenings was still too close to freezing for her comfort and the wind still had enough bite in it to sting her cheeks. She would be glad when the weather was warm enough to wear dresses again; they were so much easier to move in than slacks. Pretty, feminine dresses were her biggest weakness, and her bank account could attest to that. She was sure that Frank would like her collection of dresses, too, especially since most of them showcased her long, slim legs and shapely back. Her lips curled in a sly smile as she imagined his reaction to the blue, spaghetti-strapped sundress she’d bought on clearance last fall.

Her smile dimmed when she remembered the fresh, red marks on her shoulder. There was no way she could wear most of her dresses in public with bruises and hickeys decorating the skin below her neck. Those marks were too personal, too intimate, to share with anyone other than Frank. Those marks were tangible proof that he was still with her. All she had to do was touch the sensitive skin beneath her clothes to remind herself that the past four months had been real and that she was no longer alone. Those marks grounded her and bolstered her strength; they were the anchor that tethered her to the reality of Frank Castle’s affection. They were no one’s business, but her own, and she would not have all of Hell’s Kitchen offering their opinions on them.

She would just have to ensure he placed them lower next time.

Karen was startled from her thoughts as she rounded the block to Josie’s Bar. The piercing, familiar sound of a police siren shrieked through the noise of traffic and pedestrians, but that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary in this part of the city. What caught her attention was the sight of two officers, stances braced for confrontation, pointing their guns at an unarmed black man with his hands in the air. On reflex, she fished her phone from her pocket and engaged the video camera. Her steps quickened toward the fraught scene instead of away like most of the other people on the street, and she trained her camera on the action.

“I gave you an order,” the officer closest to her barked. “Get down on your knees and place your hands on your head. Now!”

As Karen closed in on the action, her vision sharpened on the face of the man with his hands hovering in the air with a weariness borne of long practice. He was a big man, well over six feet, and packed with muscle that Karen could see even beneath his hooded sweatshirt. His face was square with a neatly trimmed, short beard, and even though she couldn’t see the top of his head beneath the raised hood, she could tell that he was bald. Even with his hands raised, he still oozed an aura of power and control that was impossible to ignore, and the hair along her arms lifted with adrenaline.

She knew that man. He was the boyfriend of her friend, Claire Temple. She’d met him several times in passing over the last several months when she’d visited Claire in Harlem, but even though she knew a lot about him, she didn’t really know him as a person. She knew he was a good man that treated Claire like a queen, and she knew that he had been Jessica’s boyfriend for a brief time, too. She also knew that his skin was unbreakable and bullet-proof, and that he was every bit as scarily strong as Jessica. She knew that those two policemen with their deadly ammunition were no threat to him physically, but they could still take away his freedom. That man was not only an ex-convict, but he was also one of the Defenders of New York City. That man was Luke Cage, and right now, he was pissed.

“And I asked you a question, officer. Am I under arrest or am I free to leave?” the man replied, his deep voice full of tightly-leashed anger.

Karen crept closer, carefully ensuring all three of them remained in the range of her camera. This time, the other officer answered him tersely, “Neither. We’re detaining you on suspicion of your involvement in a robbery that took place an hour ago.”

Luke’s gaze darted toward her when she shuffled forward for better lighting. She watched recognition flare behind his eyes, but he gave nothing away as he calmly replied, “Police may stop you and briefly detain you only if there is reasonable suspicion that you committed, are committing, or are about to commit a crime. I don’t see anything unreasonable about walking down the street minding my own business, so what is your reasonable suspicion to detain me? The fact that I’m wearing a hoodie, the fact that I’m black, or is it both?”

Karen held her breath and her hand shook from the tension mounting between them. She prayed that the officers would de-escalate the situation, but from her past experience, that rarely turned out to be true.

“You match the description of our suspect. Now get on your knees or I’ll put you there,” the first cop snarled.

She could see the struggle written all over his face in the clenched muscle of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, and in the set of his lips into a thin line. She couldn’t begin to fathom the thoughts and emotions running through him right now, but she knew that it could go very badly for all of them. Luke Cage didn’t need her help, but she also couldn’t live with him getting arrested if she could stop it.

Even though she was shaking inside, her voice called out clear and strong to interrupt the volatile situation. “Luke, would you like me to call your lawyer? I have him on speed dial.”

She had to give them credit; neither of the officers turned their guns on her, even if they shot her dead with their gaze. “Who are you? You know this guy?” one of them demanded as the other one snapped, “Stop recording. You’re interfering in an active investigation.”

She pointedly refused to answer them or stop recording as she waited for Luke’s answer. He regarded her for a long, painful moment before he finally said, “No, thank you, Miss Page. I don’t think that will be necessary.” He turned his gaze back to the livid officers and asked, “Will it, gentlemen?”

Karen continued to video the encounter, but her heart was crowding up her throat with a combination of fear and outrage. She respected Luke for turning down her offer of help, even if it led to violence or his arrest. Still, she would prefer that this situation ended peacefully as soon as possible. Claire would never forgive her if Luke was arrested again, and Jessica would do something incredibly stupid and illegal to break him out. It would be best for everyone concerned if this situation just went away.

Before the officers could reply, Karen blurted, “My name is Karen Page, reporter for the _New York Bulletin_. Would you two like to explain to my readers why you have your guns drawn on an unarmed man? I’m sure our subscribers would also like to know why you’re accusing Harlem’s Hero, Luke Cage, of robbing a store in Hell’s Kitchen. Can I get a quote for tomorrow’s story, Officer...,” she trailed off expectantly with a question in her tone.

One of the guns drooped immediately, but the other officer wasn’t ready to give up so easily. “I don’t care who he is, lady. He matches the description of our perp. If he’s got nothing to hide, then he should have identified himself when we told him to do so.”

“Would it have made a difference if I had?” Luke shot back, his tone sharp with rebuke. “Admit it; you took one look at me and assumed I had to be your perp because I’m a black man wearing a hoodie walking alone on the street. You had your guns in your hands when you stepped out of the vehicle to approach me.”

Karen zoomed in on the faces of the officers and saw the moment when they realized that this video would not paint the NYPD in a good light. The last thing they needed was another allegation of racial bias going viral in the news media, especially one involving Luke Cage, the Bullet-Proof Black Man of Harlem. Just as she’d hoped, both officers immediately began to lower their weapons, but that didn’t mean that they would make it easy.

“Our perp is armed, Mr. Cage. You matched the description,” the first officer defended himself belligerently. “Just to ensure due diligence, do you mind telling us where you were at 8 pm tonight?”

The muscle in his jaw clenched and released before he replied with exaggerated patience. “Having dinner with my girlfriend and her mother at Cosmic Diner. You can verify that by talking to my server. She asked for my autograph, and I gave it to her. Her name is Shawna.”

Karen released a shaky breath as the two officers reluctantly holstered their guns. While the first officer spoke into his shoulder mic to report back to dispatch, the second one decided to get the last word in by sneering, “Maybe next time, you should think about answering our questions instead of trying to prove a point. That’s how innocent people get hurt.”

Luke’s nostrils flared and his tone was like chipped ice as retorted, “Maybe next time, you should think about asking questions before you pull out your guns just to prove you can. _That’s_ how innocent people get hurt.”

The two officers didn’t reply as they walked back to their shrieking car, and Karen was careful to catch the license plate number with the video camera. By tomorrow morning, she would have their names and badge numbers to add to the story she would write about this for the newspaper website. People needed to know what their tax dollars were paying for, and they had the right to demand changes. It just so happened to be her job to report to the people.

As the car pulled away and merged with busy traffic, Karen carefully ended the video recording before approaching Luke Cage. He was like a dark pillar of stone, unmovable, in the glow of the streetlights as his eyes followed the fading red and blue lights down the street. Karen’s stomach swooped with the same primal thrill she’d felt around Matt, Jessica, and especially Frank; she knew she was in the presence of someone very dangerous. Luke Cage was a different kind of dangerous, though. She didn’t know enough about him to gauge how he felt about her interfering. Karen knew better than anyone that your intentions didn’t matter for shit; the only thing that mattered was how it was perceived.

She didn’t know what to say to him, but it didn’t matter. He spoke first. “What are your plans for that video, Miss Page?”

His tone wasn’t threatening, but her knees began to tremble just the same. She cleared her throat as she hastily slid her phone into her coat pocket and replied bravely, “I’m going to publish it along with my article in the morning. Would you like to give me a quote, Mr. Cage?”

His craggy features cracked, and he shook his head with a weary laugh. “I don’t think so. Is there anything I can do to convince you not to write about this?”

Karen cautiously fell into step next to him as he began to walk toward Josie’s Bar. She didn’t hesitate before she replied, “If you ask me not to do it, I won’t publish the video, but I will be writing about what I just witnessed. I don’t have to mention your name in order to shed some light on what just happened.” She paused for a moment before throwing caution to the wind by adding, “I think it would make more of an impact with the video, though, especially because you really are Harlem’s Hero. No one will ignore this story or relegate it to a viral tweet that is forgotten the next day. You didn’t just speak truth to power back there, Luke. You gave power to the truth, and people will listen and remember.”

He rubbed a big hand over his bald head wearily as they came to a stop in front of Josie’s Bar. “I’m trying to live some semblance of a normal life, Miss Page. Becoming internet famous is not on my to-do list.”

Karen wanted his permission to the run the article and video in full, but she wasn’t giving up hope just yet. She fished her card out of her purse and handed it to him. “How about I write the article that I want to publish with the video and let you read it first? If you still feel the same way about it, I won’t publish the video, but the story will still be told without mentioning you by name. Deal?”

Luke sighed resignedly and tucked her card in his pocket. “I guess I owe you that. You did a very brave, but stupid thing getting involved back there. It could have ended a lot differently.”

Karen forced a bright smile to her face and chirped, “Yes, but it didn’t. Still, I’m more than ready for a drink now. How about you? Do you have somewhere you need to be? You’re welcome to join us.” She gestured vaguely toward the door.

Regretfully, he shook his head. “I’d like a raincheck on that, Miss Page, but I have business in Hell’s Kitchen. There’s someone I need to see.”

She didn’t know how, but she knew who he was looking for. “Are you looking for Jessica Jones, by chance?” she asked innocently.

He blinked in startled surprise and replied reluctantly, “Actually, yeah. I’m looking for Jessica Jones. I didn’t realize that you knew each other.”

Karen’s head tipped back with her laughter, and instead of replying, she stepped forward and opened the door to Josie’s. “Then you should know where to look for her. First round is on me, Luke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Whew! It makes me sweat to try and write Luke Cage. He is such a powerful character in every way that he intimidates me. I hope I've done him justice so far, and I will do my best to continue. I'm already at work writing the next chapter, and we'll start to the see the plot pick up a little. Thank you for sticking with me, and I promise to update as fast as I can during this busy month. I love to write for this fandom, and these characters are so fun for me to write. Thank you again to everyone who leaves kudos or a comment. You guys are awesome.**


	3. Karen Buys Luke a Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning! Spoilers for Jessica Jones S2 are ahead. Sorry if you haven't watched it yet!**

As Karen entered the little bar, she was greeted by the sight of Josie pulling stale beer from a tap, the smell of cheap booze mixed with body odor, and the sound of pool balls cracking and thumping off the felt of the tables. She could feel the big, solid presence of Luke at her back as she wended her way through the tables to find their usual spot, but she didn’t see Jessica sitting there. There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an empty glass on the table, but no Jessica Jones.

Karen indicated an empty chair, and Luke sat down as Karen called out, “Hey, Josie! Can we get two beers over here?” She paused to catch Luke’s affirmative gaze to her choice before she added, “Where’s Jessica?”

She could hear Josie’s snort over the buzz of voices around her. “Taking out the trash. She’ll be back any moment.”

She met Luke’s questioning glance and answered, “Jess works here on Thursday nights as the unofficial bouncer. Basically, she gets to drink for free for the night. Josie says it would be cheaper to just pay her by the hour.”

Luke’s face transformed with his laugh. The forbidding expression on his face was erased and replaced with an easy smile. Karen couldn’t help but catch her breath at the sheer masculine beauty of the man sitting next to her. Claire was a very lucky woman.

“Sounds about right,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Jessica can definitely hold her liquor.”

“Among other things,” Jessica herself replied as she finally joined them at the table. She collapsed in her chair, filled her glass with amber liquor, and took a deep drink before she rasped, “But you already knew that, didn’t you, Luke?”

The smile melted off his face leaving nothing but stone in its wake. “It’s good to see you, too, Jessica,” he replied, his tone confident and deep. “It’s been a minute since the last time we’ve seen each other. How have you been?”

Jessica filled her glass again, paused, then slammed it back in one shot. Her glass hit the table and cracked down both sides. “Oh, not much. Found out my mom had been alive all along, but she didn’t look the same and she was also altered like me. Long story short, I got my mom back, but I lost her again just a few days later.” She paused to assess the impact of her words before she added woodenly, “My best friend shot her in the head and killed her.”

Karen flinched from the bald assessment of her mother’s death a few months back. She’d covered the story herself for the newspaper and knew exactly what had led to Jessica’s mother dying in her arms, again. The fact that Trish Walker was still alive and well after pulling the trigger still astonished her. Jessica had refused to talk about Trish with her, and Karen had respected her wishes. Jess would talk in her own time and no one else’s. It appeared that now was that time.

“Sweet Christmas,” Luke breathed, his tone full of a curse and a prayer. “Trish Walker? Your sister? She shot your mother in the head?”

“Adopted sister,” Karen rushed to add. “As you can imagine, they are on strained terms right now.”

Jessica made a rude noise at that before handily changing the subject. “That’s me in a nutshell. What about you? You still playing house with the nurse in Harlem?”

This time, it was Luke that made the rude noise. “As if you don’t already know. You probably have pictures of us on that camera of yours.”

Jessica weaved in her seat and the whiskey sloshed in the bottle as she brought it to her lips. “I can send you copies for your scrapbook,” she offered with a sarcastic twist of her lips. “I’ve been dating someone, too. His name is Oscar, and he’s hot.”

Karen could see this conversation going south quickly, so she inserted herself in the middle, as usual. “Jessica, Luke came to Hell’s Kitchen just to see you, and it wasn’t exactly an uneventful trip. Tone it down a notch, alright?”

Jessica’s eyes snapped to Luke’s and her words sharpened into focus. “What happened?”

Luke shot Karen an aggrieved look before he reluctantly replied, “It wasn’t a big deal. I was stopped by the police down the street because I was walking while black.”

Karen shivered as the glossy, dark pools of Jessica’s eyes turned flat and devoid of emotion. “Typical asshole cops. How’d you get out of it?”

Karen held her breath as she waited for Luke to reply. He paused in answering to accept their beers from Josie, and when they were once again alone, he finally said, “Miss Page showed up at an opportune time.”

Jessica’s shoulders relaxed, and she poured a generous amount of liquor into the replacement glass Josie had dropped off at the table. “Yeah, she has a way of doing that,” Jessica admitted wryly. “I’m guessing that’s also why you’re sitting our table right now, too.”

“That was my idea,” Karen confessed with some hesitation. “He mentioned he was looking for you, so I invited him to have a drink with us.”

Jessica assessed Luke carefully before demanding, “Why would you be looking for me? It’s been months since the fight in the pit, and I haven’t heard from you since our heart-to-heart at the bar afterward. What’s changed your mind now?”

Luke had the courtesy to look guilty before he admitted, “I need your help. There’s been a rash of missing persons cases in Harlem in the past four months, but no one seems to care because they are young black women from neighborhoods known for high crime rates. I managed to track some of them back to a man named Paul Conger. He’s a known human trafficker, and I think he’s behind the abductions of the young women.”

Karen’s eyes grew wide with surprise, but Jessica was the first to speak. “The name sounds familiar. What does all of this have to do with me? Are you looking for a private investigator or back up? Either way, it will cost you. Mama’s got bills to pay.”

Karen couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “His name sounds familiar because I just wrote an article about him earlier this week.” Her gaze turned to Luke and she explained, “Paul Conger has been under investigation with the FBI and NYPD for 16 months for trafficking people into and out of the country, usually for the sex trade. The authorities have been holding off on bringing him in until they had some solid evidence they could use to leverage the name of his supplier in Germany. I was able to uncover some really good leads in my investigation, and they were about to close in on him.” She stopped herself abruptly from adding, _“until Frank.”_

She didn’t have to, because Jessica had already divined the truth of it without having to be told. “Let me guess. They were about to close in on this Conger guy until a certain gun-toting, skull-wearing vigilante killed him,” she stated, her tone dripping with an odd mix of scorn and satisfaction. Turning to Luke, who was obviously surprised, Jess remarked, “Well, looks like you don’t need me for anything. Your only lead on those girls is dead.”

Luke surged to his feet, and his hard gaze pinned them both to their seats. “What the fuck you mean ‘Conger is dead’?” he hissed, his muscles tensed with anger. “Who killed him? I want to talk to that motherfucker. I’m going to get my answers one way or another.”

Karen’s blood turned to ice in her veins, and she kicked Jessica hard in the shin under the table. “Luke, please sit back down. I can explain everything. We’ll get your answers,” she soothed the obviously furious big man.

Reluctantly, Luke resumed his seat and reached for his beer as Karen hastily whispered, “We don’t need to attract any attention here, okay? What I’m about to tell you has to stay a secret to protect someone I care about very deeply. Do you understand, Mr. Cage?”

His expression screamed suspicion, but he reluctantly nodded. “I get that. I got people to protect, too, though, so this better be good.”

As if she couldn’t help herself, Jessica snorted and said, “Oh, there’s nothing good about it. Our intrepid reporter here is banging Frank Castle, aka The Punisher. Her boyfriend is the one that killed Conger.”

Luke turned his incredulous gaze on her, but she refused to quell or be ashamed. It grew more difficult when he growled, “You’re telling me that the psycho veteran that killed dozens of people in cold blood and then blew himself up on a freighter in the harbor is the same one that killed my lead? I thought that dude was dead.”

Karen aimed another well-placed kick against Jessica’s shin before she replied quietly, “He’s still alive, but he is living under an assumed name now. He’s a good man, Luke. He’s got his reasons and he’s been screwed over by the government, too. Just like you.”

Luke didn’t appear convinced, and Jessica did nothing to soothe him by piping in, “Except that he’s white, plays with guns, and murders his enemies. Other than that, you two could be twinsies.”

Luke shook his head in disbelief. “Why did he kill Conger if he knew the police were closing in on him? Does he not understand what’s at stake?”

“Of course, he does! Why do you think he killed him? He was trying to stop Conger from taking even one more girl. Some of those refugees were the same age as his daughter before she died. He wasn’t going to let one more girl suffer when he could end it with a bullet,” she said, her tone full of ice and rage.

Luke sat back in his chair and shook his head. “You don’t get it, Miss Page. An operation like that doesn’t have just one major player. With Conger dead, how are they going to find his source in Germany? Better yet, how am I gonna find his source in Harlem? I’ve got fifteen Mamas waiting on me to give them their daughters back, and I just lost my only lead because of him.”

Karen’s stomach churned with nervous tension as she struggled to find a way to answer his question. Did Frank realize what he’d done? As if he were standing at her back whispering in her ear, she heard him say, _“He gave me the name in the first ten minutes. He didn’t die for another two hours.”_ It wasn’t Frank’s style to torture someone for the hell of it. There was always a purpose, always a reason, for the things that he did. Why did Frank keep Conger alive for an extra hour and fifty minutes?

The answer was glaringly obvious. Her nervousness turned to excitement, and her blood began to pound with adrenaline. This was the same feeling she’d gotten when Connie had handed them a case to solve four months prior. There was more to this case than Frank was telling her, and she didn’t have to guess what he was doing with Conger, because she already knew.

Pulling her wallet from her purse, she slapped a $20 on the table and stood to her feet. “You didn’t lose your lead, Luke. Someone else stole it. I guarantee Frank knows exactly who you’re looking for and plans to go after them himself. If you two want to come with me back to my place, I can make sure he doesn’t do it alone.”

Luke stood up immediately to join her, but he didn’t look happy. “Alright, I’ll go with you, but if Castle doesn’t play nice, I won’t, either.”

Jessica finally heaved herself to her feet and wound the silly blue scarf around her slim neck. “You got nothing to worry about, remember? Frankie Boy likes knives and guns, and you’re impervious to both. It should be fun.” She paused to yell across the bar to Josie, “Hey, Josie! I quit! There’s something else I want to do tonight.”

Without even looking up, Josie called back, “Whatever, Jones. I’ll see ya next Thursday.”

Karen excused herself and exited ahead of them out to the street to hail a cab. She had to catch Frank and tell him to come to her house. He’d told her earlier in the day that he wouldn’t see her after the meeting, and she had foolishly not asked the reason. As she waited for one to drive past, her fingers flew across the screen of her phone.

 

Karen: _I need you to come to my place right after the meeting. I’m bringing company._

Barely ten seconds went by before his reply came winging back.

 

Frank: _My business can wait. I’ll be there in fifteen._

Karen looked up from her phone just in time to flag down a passing cab. As she ushered Luke and Jessica into the vehicle, her mind whirled with the possibilities of the coming meeting. How would the two men deal with each other? No matter what she’d said, Luke was nothing like Frank, with one exception: they both protected the innocent.

She just hoped that they both remembered that if she had to step between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You guys, I want to apologize. I pride myself on being a fast writer and updater, but I just haven't had the juice in me. I've spread myself pretty thin between events, volunteering, family obligations, and work, and that has left very little of me to put into my writing. I'm actively trying to change that and am reducing my commitments so I can pour myself into my own personal therapy. Writing. That is what feeds me and gives me strength, and I'm starving. Hang in there with me, guys. I'm just as eager as you all to read this story. Thank you for your kudos and kind words! You guys give me strength, too.**


	4. Frank Joins the Junior Avengers

Frank hung back in the shadows as he watched a taxi cab pull up in front of Karen’s building to eject its occupants. He hadn’t planned on coming back to her apartment after Curtis’ group session; he had a new mission to accomplish. But over the past few months, Frank had learned how to read the signs of her shifting moods, and he had learned not to ignore a summons when he received one. He had a bad feeling that Karen had managed to figure out what he was up to, and an even worse feeling that he wasn’t going to like her visitors. He had a gut instinct about the identity of one of them.

Frank used his pocket binoculars to zoom in on the faces of Karen and her two guests as they walked toward the door of her apartment building. He found her familiar figure first and paused to admire the flush of her pale skin and the glow of her golden hair beneath the security lights. She was so goddamned beautiful to him. She was an exquisite mix of light and dark and she drew him in like a sinner to church. Reluctantly, he moved his binoculars over to the other familiar figure. His suspicions were confirmed when he sighted the distinctive smirk of plump, cherry lips, sex-rumpled brunette hair, and a ridiculous blue scarf wrapped around the skinny neck of Jessica Jones.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed, both irritated and intrigued. He still hadn’t figured out his relationship with Karen’s friend. Jessica Jones was not easy to classify. She was dangerous, unstable, and an alcoholic asshole, but she was also desperately lonely and self-destructive. Frank had been there not long ago himself, and he understood her in a way very few others ever could. He also knew that Jones was loyal to Karen, but that didn’t mean he trusted her judgment where Karen’s safety was concerned.

Quickly, he trained his gaze on the third visitor. Frank’s training kicked in and he classified the possible threat to Karen’s safety in the blink of an eye. African American male, over six feet tall and muscular of build wearing jeans and a zippered hoodie. Didn’t appear to be armed, but he was still clearly dangerous. Frank zoomed in on his face and he cursed when recognition set in.

“ _Goddammit, Karen_ ,” he muttered from his perch on the fire escape across the street.

Frank had never met the man before, but he knew who Karen’s other guest was and he was not happy. Luke Cage was the one person he had been hoping to avoid during his next mission. He had spent the day doing reconnaissance in Harlem, and he wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in some of the neighborhoods he’d visited. When he had managed to find people willing to talk to him, Harlem’s Hero had graced the tongue of each one. In Frank’s estimation, Cage wasn’t much of a hero if he allowed innocent girls to be stolen and sold like cattle right under his nose. Looked like Frank would have to take care of it himself. In a situation like this, heroes weren’t much use anyway. They tended to get squeamish about permanent solutions to problems like Conger. That’s where Frank came in.

Conger had been a virtual fount of information with the right incentive, and Frank had given him very painful incentives. He’d had a feeling that there was more to Conger than even Karen had discovered, and he wanted to find out everything. Human trafficking was alive and flourishing right here in his own city, and he meant to put a stop to it. It had taken the loss of two teeth and a bullet to one kneecap before Conger had spilled about his operation in Harlem. By the time Conger had drawn his last breath, Frank had been given names and locations for every person involved in the ring. He had a new mission: kill the monsters and retrieve the victims. Luke Cage would only get in his way.

Unfortunately, it appeared Karen had other plans. He watched the three of them enter the building before he stashed his binoculars and made his way down the fire escape. He had less than three minutes to figure out what the hell his...Karen was up to and figure out how to get rid of the not-so-dynamic duo.

By the time Frank entered her apartment with his key, Karen and her two guests were seated at the small kitchen table with a drink. Cage immediately stood to his feet, but Jessica didn’t bother to offer any other greeting than a smirk and finger wave. Ignoring the imposing presence of Cage and his crossed arms, Frank leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Karen’s cheek. “Hey there, doll,” he murmured in her ear. Standing back up, he boldly assessed his visitors for the first time before saying louder, “Sorry I’m late for the Junior Avengers meeting. I had my own meeting to attend, but it was with real soldiers and heroes.”

“Frank!” Karen growled, her eyes blue flame and her cheeks pink with their heat. “Please don’t insult our guests. Especially since they are here to help.”

“Help nothing,” Luke spat, taking a measured step into Frank’s personal space. “You’re going to tell me what I need to know before I help you into a wheelchair. You’ve cost me time by killing my only lead, Castle, and time is not something those missing girls have to spare.”

Jones and Karen faded into the background as he sized up the big man and looked for weaknesses. “Oh, now you’re worried about the girls? How many of them did they take from your neighborhoods before you even noticed, huh? Sixteen girls between the ages of 15 and 24 have been taken under your watch, so I’ll handle this myself. You’re welcome.”

Frank braced himself for an attack, but it was forestalled by Jones by announcing, “Wait a minute. Luke, I thought you said there were only fifteen girls missing?”

Luke’s confused gaze darted between Jessica and Frank and Karen before landing back on Frank once more. “She’s right. You said sixteen girls, but I’ve only tracked down fifteen.”

“See?” Karen replied, excitement evident in her voice. “This is why we need to pool our resources and work together. Why don’t we all sit down and discuss this like rational adults?”

Frank locked eyes with Cage for an eternity-long second before they each turned to face their hostess. Without another word, Luke sat back down in his chair, but he turned it to keep Frank in his line of sight. Suited him just fine; that way, he could keep an eye on the dangerous stranger drinking bourbon in Karen’s home.

He reluctantly sat in the chair Karen indicated and finally addressed Karen’s friend for the first time. “In that case, you may want call it night, Jones. Acting like a rational adult is not exactly your forte.”

Jessica’s lips twisted to one side and she flipped him the middle finger. “Says the man who dresses up like the Grim Reaper and kills baddies as a hobby.” Frank grit his teeth to keep from saying something ugly, and Jessica’s eyes twinkled with victory. “Good to see you again, Frank. Somehow, I was expecting for one or the other of us to be behind bars the next time I laid eyes on you. Maybe next time. You go first.”

Frank couldn’t help it. A burst of air expelled from his lungs on a rusty chuckle, and he replied sarcastically, “I knew this mission was fucked as soon as I saw you tonight. Good to see you, too, Jones.”

“Are we done with the pleasantries?” Luke interjected. Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “I have been chasing dead ends on the missing women for _three weeks_. That’s three weeks of terror for those families, but most of all, for those girls. For three weeks, I have been tracking down leads to their whereabouts, and just when I get a name, I find out that he’s dead. Because of you. I want to know how you plan to make that right.”

Frank eased his hand away from the gun holstered on his ankle. Fat lot of good it would do against Cage, but Frank could be resourceful in a pinch. He didn’t want it to come to a fight between them, especially in Karen’s home, so he was more than willing to deescalate the situation.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be an asshole about it. “Three weeks, huh? It took me less than two hours and four bullets to get answers.”

Frank could feel the weight of Karen’s death glare, but her tone was conciliatory when she said, “What matters now is saving those women. With Conger’s connections, it could be possible that some of them were taken overseas. Time is running out, and we can solve this faster if we all work together.”

Frank knew she was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Working with a team meant making compromises he didn’t like and getting results that were less than optimal. Still, he trusted Karen’s instincts, and if she said they needed to work together, then that is what he would do. Dammit.

The silence between the four of them was disturbed by Jessica stifling a burp before she exclaimed, “Fuck it. I’m in, and you don’t even have to pay me. I’ve been wanting to kick someone’s ass for months.” She paused to gauge their reactions before she added, “My anger management group recommends strenuous exercise. This is therapy.”

Frank cursed silently when Luke sighed heavily and said, “Whatever. I won’t say no to some help, but let me make myself clear. Those are _my_ people, so we’re doing things _my_ way.”

Jessica groaned, Karen grabbed her notebook and pen, and Frank grabbed the bottle of bourbon and an empty glass. He had a feeling they were going to be here for a while. He tossed back a large swallow of Karen’s Kentucky bourbon, and rasped, “Junior Avengers Assemble. Jesus.”

After draining her glass and slamming it on the table, Jessica stood to her feet. “That’s settled. Wake me up when it’s time to go.” Frank watched with disgust and admiration as she crossed the room to collapse on Karen’s couch. Seconds later, soft snores floated to their ears.

Luke shook his head wryly and muttered, “I do not miss that. That woman can snore like a bear.”

Frank was not in the mood for small talk. The quicker they had a plan, the quicker he could get rid of them both and have Karen to himself. “Do you want names, or do you want to rehash your love life? I don’t got all night here.”

Karen slipped into the lead seamlessly and with grace. As usual. “Frank, why don’t you start by explaining the sixteenth person taken. Do you have a name, age, description?” she prompted him, her pen at the ready.

With a heavy sigh, Frank gave in and started talking. Instead of starting with the newest abductee, though, he started with Paul Conger. He explained in graphic detail how he had forced the sick motherfucker to tell him names and addresses of the people involved in the trafficking ring in Harlem. He wanted Cage to know and understand what Frank was capable of doing to stop bad people from doing bad things. Even if it meant getting his hands dirty with someone else’s blood.

“That’s what led me to Harlem today,” Frank finished up fifteen minutes later. “That’s when I learned that a sixteenth girl was taken.” He couldn’t read Cage’s expression, but Karen was animated with the thrill of the hunt. Her pen flashed across her notebook as she began to pepper him with questions.

“How did you hear about the missing girl if it hasn’t been reported to the police? I’ve got a contact in the 28th Precinct that’s been keeping me informed, and he didn’t say shit about another abduction today. I doubt you got many locals to talk to you, so what makes you think someone else was taken?” Cage said, his tone accusing.

Frank swirled the amber liquid in the bottom of his glass as he replied, “Because I saw it happen, and I wasn’t fast enough to save her.”

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Just a quick little chapter to set up the next part! Hope you guys are having a rocking week wherever you are in the world. Peace and kindness to y'all, and I'll be back very soon!**


	5. Frank Goes Down

“What do you mean you weren’t ‘fast enough to save her’?” Luke demanded, his glass beginning to crack in his grip.

Karen hastily retrieved her glassware as she chimed in, “What happened, Frank? Tell us everything.”

Frank’s knuckles turned white with fury beneath the table. The memory was still fresh, and each minute he spent talking about it meant that he wasn’t doing something about it. He didn’t have much a choice, though. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he may need Cage’s help. Harlem was not a familiar area to him, and the people there didn’t know him or trust him. It was still his part of his city, though, and he would be damned if he would sit by and watch innocent women be hurt. The best way to accomplish this mission was clear; run the op using every weapon at his disposal. What better weapon to take to war than a bullet-proof battering ram?

With his mind settled on the matter, Frank spilled the truth. “I didn’t go to Curtis’ group tonight, doll. I was in Harlem up until an hour ago,” he confessed, his eyes locked on to hers. “I was at my place getting some hunting supplies when I got your text.”

He saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes, but she buried it. Her tone gave nothing away as she replied crisply, “You were on your way back to Harlem to save her, weren’t you?”

He nodded to confirm and dropped her gaze with the excuse of addressing Luke. “It happened at approximately 2100 hours. I was tracking the first name on Conger’s list and that led me to the alley across the street from a jazz bar. It’s around the block from the theater.”

“Angel’s Place,” Luke said without hesitation. “I know it. What happened?”

In his peripheral vision, he could see Karen’s ink pen racing over the page as he answered, “The man I was tracking is named Teddy James—"

“I know him,” Luke interrupted. His tone hard as steel, he explained, “He’s been making a name for himself recently by buying up every piece of real estate in my neighborhood. He’s been throwing around a lot of cash lately. The kind of money that doesn’t go unnoticed in Harlem.”

“That’s the one,” Frank confirmed. “I was following a lead that said he goes to that jazz bar every Thursday night for a late dinner. I saw him enter the building with three other guys. The lights went out about twenty minutes later.”

Karen grunted and cursed as she tugged her laptop from its case and fumbled to get it open. As her fingers danced across the keys, Frank continued, “It was immediate pandemonium. The doors opened, and a flood of people came pouring out of the restaurant. I was looking for Teddy James when I saw it happen. A young waitress still wearing her apron staggered past the alley next to the club, and someone reached out from the shadows and yanked her into the dark. I ran across the street, but the crowd of people was too thick to get through quickly. By the time I made it to the alley, she was gone.”

Luke ran his hand down his face with frustration. “What about Teddy James and his entourage? Did you see where they went?”

Frank shook his head and snarled, “They were gone, too. No one was left inside the restaurant except for management, and I didn’t see them outside, either. I came back to Hell’s Kitchen to grab a few things I needed before I headed back to Harlem. I’m going to his house to find that girl.”

“She isn’t there. None of them are. Teddy James lives in a nice neighborhood where the mortgages run in the six figures. He wouldn’t have brought her back to his house; it’s too visible. He has to be keeping them somewhere, though,” Luke retorted.

Karen’s fingertips stopped dancing and she interrupted, “Luke, you said he’s been buying up real estate in Harlem, right? I bet he’s keeping them in one of those properties.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet, because I think you’re right. The only problem is no one seems to know exactly how much he owns. It will take me days to figure that shit out,” Luke replied, his eyebrows lowered with anger.

Frank didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started dialing. His call was answered on the second ring.

 _“If it involves guns and blood, the answer is no,”_ a cranky male voice said without greeting.

Frank met Karen’s curious gaze and winked. “You love this shit, and you know it. I need your help,” Frank said without preamble.

“Who is he talking to?” Luke hissed at Karen, clearly incensed at being cut off and ignored.

Karen replied something in a whisper as he tuned back into his conversation.

 _“Of course, you do. Why else would you be calling me at midnight on a Thursday? It’s not like you call for any other reason, so why would this time be different?”_ his cranky friend bitched.

Frank rolled his eyes and snorted. “You are such a drama queen, Lieberman. If you miss me so much, why don’t you come to the city tomorrow with that laptop of yours?”

There was silence across the lines for several seconds before David Lieberman asked suspiciously, _“Why? What do you need me for?”_

Frank grinned and answered, “Maybe I miss your ugly mug, too. Maybe I need you to hack into city records and find out every property owned by one person. Can’t it be both?”

A disgusted sigh filtered across the earpiece. _“I just got done doing another job for you, which might I point out, I did as a favor. What do I get out of this deal?”_ Lieberman demanded.

Frank’s gaze landed on the bulletproof hero from Harlem, and he smiled. “How about a meet-and-greet for Leo with Luke Cage, Harlem’s Hero? This job is actually for him, so I’m sure he would be happy to repay your help by taking a selfie with your daughter.”

He ignored Luke’s irritated growl and waited for his buddy to answer. Finally, Lieberman replied crankily, _“Fine. Give me everything you have, and I’ll have a list of the properties by morning. No, I can’t get it to you any sooner, so don’t ask.”_

Frank rattled off everything he knew about Teddy James including his ties to Paul Conger, and Lieberman asked pointed questions for clarification. Once he was satisfied with his data, Lieberman ended the call just as abruptly as he started it.

“Well?” Karen asked in the silence after he put his phone back in his pocket. “What did David say?”

Even though Karen had asked the question, he gave the answer to Luke Cage. “That was my buddy, Micro. He’s a master hacker that used to work for the NSA and has ties to the Rising Tide. He’ll have a list of every property owned by Teddy James in the morning. I say we take the list, pare it down to the most likely properties, and split up to investigate.”

Cage sighed heavily and replied with reluctance, “I don’t guess we got any other choice. Otherwise, we’re just running around blind.” Luke reached for Karen’s notepad and pen and scribbled a note. He pushed it across the table to Frank and added, “That’s my number. Call me when your guy is done. We’ll talk about you taking liberties with my name and my time later.”

Frank didn’t bother to reply as Luke stood up to his impressive height, but Karen answered by saying, “Thank you for working with us, Mr. Cage. I’ll have that article to you tomorrow for approval.”

Cage nodded respectfully and made his way over to the snoring woman on the couch. “Call me Luke. I think we’ve moved past formalities at this point. I’ll take Jessica home and crash on her couch, so I’ll be ready to go as soon as you have that list.”

Frank watched bemusedly as Luke gently scooped Jessica Jones up into his arms as if she were made of feathers. She instinctively curled into his chest and quit snoring as he made his way to the door. Karen held it open and exchanged several hushed words with Cage before she shut the door behind them and engaged five different locks. Frank knew he was in trouble when she resumed her seat at the table and began typing once more without speaking.

He waited through a painful two minutes of silence before he said, “Did you say you were writing an article for him? What’s that all about?” Maybe a distraction would trick her into talking.

Karen’s head remained bent over the keyboard as she replied tightly, “I have video of him being harassed by the police. He doesn’t want me to publish it but agreed to read my accompanying article before he made up his mind.”

Frank considered that for a moment before saying what he really wanted to say. “You’re mad at me. Why don’t quit hiding behind that screen and yell at me about it.”

Karen took a deep breath and carefully snapped her laptop closed and finally looked at him. Even with blue flames dancing in her eyes, she was breathtaking. No matter what mood Karen Page was in, she was always beautiful to him.

“You’re damn right, I’m mad at you,” she confirmed, her cheeks flushed with emotion. “We’re supposed to be partners, Frank, and not just in bed. You purposely kept me in the dark about what you learned from Conger, because you wanted to handle it yourself. Like I’ve told you before, that shit isn’t going to fly with me.”

As usual, Frank’s temper answered before he could, and he snapped, “What do want from me, Karen? Huh? I never lied to you about where I was today; you just assumed I would be at Curtis’ meeting.”

Karen couldn’t contain her emotions to a chair, so she stood to her feet and began to clear the table as she replied, “Lies of omission are still lies, Frank. I’m not trying to be your babysitter, your mother, or your handler. I’m just trying to be your partner, but you keep shutting me out. We’ve had this conversation a dozen times, but you still keep hiding things from me. Why didn’t you tell me what your plans were today? Why do I keep having to find out about your missions on my own?”

Frank flinched as her tone shifted slowly from anger to disappointment. He could handle her anger; in fact, they had resolved many heated conflicts through hard, frantic sex. What he couldn’t handle was her disappointment. He hated letting her down, but it seemed to happen with alarming regularity lately. Why couldn’t she understand that he was trying to protect her? Her career, hell, her _life_ could be in danger every time he broke the law to dispense justice. He tried to keep her separate from that part of his life, but she fought him every step of the way. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also didn’t want her in danger, either.

Frank stood up and began divesting himself of weapons. “Yeah, we’ve had this talk before, but I’ll say it again. The less you know about what I’m doing out there, the better. I don’t want anyone adding two plus two and coming up with you. I’m trying to protect you here, doll.”

Karen growled with frustration. “Hiding things from me and keeping me at arm’s length isn’t protecting me, Frank. You are putting handcuffs on me instead of arming me for battle. You’re preventing me from protecting both of us when you go out there wearing that skull without telling me. I’m not trying to stop you or change who you are; I’m trying to help you, but you won’t let me.”

Frank couldn’t stop himself from crossing the distance between them. When mere inches separated them, Frank reached out to cup her delicate cheek in his calloused palm. Even now, when tensions were high and emotions raw, she did not pull away from him. Instead, she closed her eyes and turned into his hold. Something in his chest fractured and dropped away as he studied her face. Karen Page was something different and new that he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t sure how to classify the clash of extreme emotions that she caused inside him. Love seemed too generic, too unsatisfying, a word to call it, so he refused to name it at all.

His thumb rasped across her cheek and he murmured, “The things I do out there, doll... Believe me, you don’t want to know about it. Hell, I don’t want you to ever see it. It’s ugly and brutal. That’s not for you, Karen. It would change things.”

Just as he hoped she would, she stepped forward into his arms and wrapped her own around his waist. He held her tight and breathed deep of the fruity, floral fragrance of her shampoo from where she rested her cheek over his uninjured pec. He could feel the heat of her breath through his shirt when she said softly, “I know that, Frank, but I won’t settle for anything less than full disclosure. Either we’re partners all the way, or not at all.”

His heart slammed against his ribs at her pronouncement, and he swallowed the unexpected ball of fear rising in his throat. He couldn’t lose her, not for any reason. Especially not when she asked for so little from him. He pressed a firm kiss against her hair and rumbled, “Okay, doll. I hear you. Message received. I’ll do better telling you my plans, but I’m the one that decides how involved you can be in them, if at all. That’s the deal.”

Karen’s hands wandered down over his ass, and his cock took immediate notice. “I can live with that,” she conceded as she squeezed and kneaded the cheeks of his ass. “You tell me everything, you decide how involved you want me to be, and then I will decide if I agree with you.”

Frank was too busy concentrating on the way Karen’s body molded to him to hear anything other than _“I can live with that.”_ That was all he needed to hear. He tilted her chin up until their lips were touching and breathed, “Deal.”

And, he kissed her.

God, Frank loved the taste of bourbon on Karen’s tongue. He chased the sweet, woodsy flavor of her favorite Kentucky whiskey and drank its essence from her lips. Without breaking contact, he walked her back across the kitchen until they were stopped by the edge of the kitchen counter. Karen’s hands were busy pulling at the button on his jeans and he was occupied with removing her bra when she rasped, “This has to be quick. I really do have an article to finish tonight.”

Frank pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it behind him before drawing her bra straps down her arms. “Challenge accepted. Remember the rules?”

Her swollen lips lifted with a smile as she shimmied out of her skirt and underwear before hopping up to sit on the counter. She pulled her legs wide and he could see her pussy spread open to his gaze. It dawned on him that if he were to get on his knees, his mouth would be at the perfect vantage point to drink from her.

“I come first,” she finally answered him.

Frank pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his pants to the floor before slowly dropping to his knees before her. He draped her legs over each shoulder and turned his eyes upward to catch her gaze.

He licked his bottom lip and swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and said roughly, “You always come first, Karen. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Why does it always end in sex for those two? #SorryNotSorry  
> Adventure is afoot with some of my favorite characters. I'll do my best in giving them equal time. Speaking of which, I think we're going to have a bonus chapter next. I don't know about you guys, but I'm very curious about what will happen when Luke spends the night in Jessica's apartment. The good news is that my weekend is looking blessedly boring and I will be spending my time writing this story on the back porch while wearing stretchy pants and drinking sweet tea. Be thinking about me, friends, and I'll be thinking about you, too. Will post again soon!**


	6. Bonus Chapter: Jessica is Only Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This is a bonus chapter from Jessica Jones' POV after Luke carried her out of Karen's apartment. Not gonna lie, it's sad AF.**

Jessica came awake in fits and spurts just enough to realize that she was in the arms of Luke Cage.

_He was carrying her down the stairs of Karen’s apartment building...He was walking along the still-busy streets of Hell’s Kitchen cradling her to his wide chest...He was opening the door to her apartment as he murmured, “Do you mind if I sleep on your couch?”...He was laying her on her bed and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear...He was gently pulling her boots and socks off her feet and unwrapping her scarf...He was standing at her door and saying, “I’ll be in here if you need anything.”.........._

“Don’t go,” Jessica whispered before he could walk away. Her head was spinning and his shadow danced across her hazy vision.

Luke turned his head to meet her heavy-lidded gaze and her heart squeezed with pain. He was so fucking beautiful to her. From the inky depths of his eyes to the sharp square of his jaw to the ripe fullness of his lips, every bit of him was gorgeous. But what really made him addictive was the beauty inside him. Luke Cage believed in the innate goodness of man, the concept of justice, and the illusion of love. He wasn’t broken inside like her.

His expression softened, and he rumbled, “I’m not leaving. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

Jessica’s hand trembled as she patted the empty spot to her right. “It’s too small for you and the stuffing is falling out of the bullet holes. You might as well sleep here.”

Luke huffed and shook his head, but he still gravitated back toward the bed. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea, Jess. I don’t think Claire or Oscar would think that’s a good idea, either.”

Jessica didn’t want to think about the nurse or Oscar right then; she was only thinking about him. She was primed for addiction, and Luke Cage had been the best drug she’d ever had. Even as her body began to suffer from alcohol withdrawal, she craved a different kind of high. She knew he was bad for her, but she would justify any excuse to be near him. It wasn’t cheating if they didn’t take their clothes off, right? Oscar and the nurse didn’t even have to know that Luke had been in her apartment. They were simply sharing a place to sleep as friends.

As if to punish her for her lies, her stomach cramped with the dreaded withdrawals already hitting her system. Thanks to her freakish metabolism, her body went through cycles of pure detox after every time she got drunk, and she experienced every painful symptom within hours after her last drink. Usually she could just sleep though most of it, but this time, the symptoms were manifesting stronger and faster. Maybe asking him to sleep with her wasn’t such a wise idea. Not if she was going to be sick.

“You know what, you’re right, Luke,” she said, feigning disinterest by turning her back to him. “This bed is too small for the both of us anyway.”

He didn’t say anything for several moments, and she held her breath as she waited for him to walk away. She needed him to leave before the cramps came in earnest. She didn’t want his pity or his help. She had survived the hell of recovery hundreds of times, and this time would be no different. She didn’t want an audience for what she could feel was coming next.

She couldn’t see him anymore, but she could feel his presence getting closer. Her heart beat faster when the bed dipped behind her as he sat on the bed, but he didn’t lay down.

“I like Claire, Jess. Even more, I respect the hell out of her,” he said. His deep voice rolled through the darkness of her bedroom and her body shivered with craving and withdrawal as he continued, “I won’t do anything that would hurt her.”

Her hand shook as she surreptitiously wiped away a salty tear sliding down her cheek. She blinked rapidly to prevent more from escaping as she replied shakily, “I changed my mind. You can sleep on my small, broken couch, or you can you can go get a hotel. Either way, I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”

“Come on, Jess, don’t be that way,” he was saying as a wicked shiver raced across her body. “I’m just trying to talk to you—"

He was interrupted by a stifled moan of pain that escaped Jessica’s mouth when a vicious stomach cramp ripped through her. She tried to force her sweating, aching body to relax into the mattress, but she couldn’t stop from curling in on herself. The swiftness and the severity of her withdrawals had been getting worse over the past months, but she had compensated by drinking more. This time was different. There was no gradual increase in symptoms over a several hours’ detox; this time, the symptoms hit her like a Mack Truck. She could feel him turn and move on the bed, but she was too engulfed in the painful shivers that began to wrack her body to care. Her skin was clammy and filmed with sweat and her head started to pound with a piercing migraine.

The firm grip of his hand on her arm brought her back from the all-consuming, burning, searing pain of her body repairing itself from the damage she’d done with her drinking. “Jessica, what’s wrong?” he demanded as he began to check her over for obvious wounds.

Another cramp made her gasp, and her mouth flooded with saliva as the pain of it sent her stomach up her throat. Before she could scramble to her feet to run to the bathroom, Luke was there, propping her up with his strong arm as he held a trash can to her lips with the other. With each twist of her insides, she vomited the remaining alcohol and bile in her stomach as Luke rubbed soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

When the pain and subsequent puking finally subsided, Luke eased her back to the bed and said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

As if she could. She was drained and weak from the rapid purge of poison from her blood system and organs. She knew her altered DNA was responsible for the swift and efficient renewal of her body, because she always healed from physical wounds with astounding speed, too. That didn’t mean that she didn’t feel every single bit of it, though.

Luke was back a few minutes later, and her eyelids peeled opened when he bathed her face with a cool washcloth. She was beyond embarrassed by her body’s reactions, and she hastily snatched the cloth from his hand. “I’m fine, Luke. Really. Just...maybe you should get a hotel, after all.”

Luke retrieved the cloth from her limp fingers and persistently went back to wiping her face. His deep voice tumbled over her in the dark as he replied, “No, I’m sleeping in here with you. You’re in no condition to be alone right now.”

“I’m always in the condition to be alone,” she replied softly as she gave up the fight against her conscience and allowed him to bathe her. She met his gaze as he finished by running the damp cotton across her lips, and she explained shakily, “It’s just my system reacting to the withdrawal, that’s all. My superpower is being a functional alcoholic.”

His full lips turned down in a frown as he discarded the rag and lifted her up to drink from a cup of water. “Why do you do this to yourself, Jess?” he asked, his voice low and earnest. He settled her back on her pillow before he continued, “Why do you keep drinking when your body is clearly telling you not to?”

Something about the lateness of the hour and the intimate closeness between them loosened her lips, and she answered honestly, “It’s less painful than facing life without it.”

The big hand resting on her arm tightened enough to be felt through her shirt and his nostrils flared briefly. “You won’t have much of a life left if you don’t stop. There’s a limit to how much damage your altered chemistry can heal. You may have superpowers, Jessica, but you are still human. You can still die.”

Jessica felt her eyes welling with those fucking tears again, so she closed her eyelids against them and the thundercloud look of anger on Luke’s face. Her teeth chattered with her shivering as she said, “I’m well aware of that fact, Luke. My mother was just like me, but stronger and crazier. It only took one bullet to the head for her to die. She was human, too.” By the time she was done speaking, her body was quaking with full-on shivers that chattered her teeth.

Luke reached out with his hand and pressed it against her forehead with concentration written across his face. “You’re spiking a fever,” he announced, standing to his feet. “We need to get you out of all those clothes and into something cooler.”

Jessica’s very bones ached with the force of her tremors. Her body was an evil mixture of roasting alive and freezing to death, and her clothes grew heavy and damp against her skin. She had no strength left in her body to fight against either, so she lay there, shivering, as she watched Luke Cage rummage through her dresser until he pulled out a familiar tee shirt. He snorted softly when he recognized it as one of his own shirts before he headed to the kitchen to search through more cupboards. When he finally made it back to her side a few minutes later, he held his old tee shirt in one hand, and two aspirin in the other.

“Take these,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Aspirin is a blood thinner and it works better than anything else to speed up my own healing. It should work that way for you, too.”

She didn’t fight him on it; it was too much effort. So, she swallowed the aspirin and accepted the tee shirt from him with shaky hands. The material seemed to weigh a hundred pounds in her hand, and she silently cursed the weakness of her normally strong body. She had no choice. She was going to have to ask him for help.

Before she could form the words on her tongue, though, he retrieved the shirt and placed it on the bed. “Is it okay if I help you?” he asked cautiously, his hands hovering over the lapels of her leather jacket.

She could only nod her head in reply, but it was enough. With efficient, clinical detachment, Luke divested her of her jacket, tee shirt, and jeans. When she was down to just her underwear and bra, he paused in reaching for the clean shirt and asked, “Do you want to leave the bra on or take it off? Which is more comfortable for you?”

 _Goddammit, he’s a fucking gentleman,_ Jessica complained silently. Out loud, she replied, “Off, please. Everything that touches me hurts right now.”

Luke’s throat bobbed as his dark fingers traced a feathery path across the milky skin of her ribs on his way to the clasp. He didn’t hesitate to release the hooks, and he boldly pulled the straps of her bra down her arms and tossed it into the pile of clothes on a nearby chair. He turned back to her, and his eyes lingered over her bare chest, concave stomach, and the small slip of cotton doing a bad job of covering up the fact that she hadn’t ladyscaped in a while. She was too weak to move beneath his gaze, too drained to cover her breasts or pussy even if she wanted to, so she allowed him to see everything. She had already bared her soul and the contents of her stomach to him; she may as well finish the job by letting him see her naked, too.

Luke’s own hand was shaking as he broke eye contact to help her into his old shirt. His voice was rough when he said, “Feels like your fever is already coming down.” He finished covering her skin and gently prodded her to move over. “Sleep on that side where it’s dry. I’ll sleep on this side on top of the covers.”

Jessica did as he suggested and once again turned her back to him, so he wouldn’t see the tears of rejection rolling down her face. She truly hated herself in that moment, because she had stupidly fooled herself into believing that Luke still had feelings for her, too. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to tell with the way she was shivering and chattering her teeth beneath the blankets.

She heard the sound of several items clink against the surface of the bedside table before the bed dipped beneath his weight once more. This time, though, he lay down beside her, fully dressed and above the blankets, but he curled his large frame around her smaller one like a living heating blanket. He tucked his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his chest until she was surrounded by his warmth. Slowly, her shivers waned as he burrowed his nose behind her ear to whisper, “I got you, Jessi. I’m right here.”

The tears rolled faster down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. She didn’t want to give him any excuse to move away from her, not when she was finally back in the circle of his arms. She knew it couldn’t last and that he would leave again, but she was too weak to resist the temporary shelter of his care. She would take whatever scraps of him she could get.

A comfortable, but loaded, silence descended between them as Jessica’s temperature dropped and regulated within minutes and she stopped shivering altogether. Her tears stopped and dried as an hour went by with them both still awake and very aware of each other.

Until his deep voice broke the silence. “I’m sorry for every time I’ve hurt you.”

Jessica turned beneath the covers until she was facing him, but he did not let her go. She settled her head against his shoulder, and he pulled her close. Resting her hand against his heart, she answered, softly, “Ditto. Thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

Luke’s hand was a large firebrand against her lower back and he pressed a kiss into her hair. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t stay because you were sick. I stayed because I wanted to be close to you. That’s the reason why I said this was a bad idea.”

Jessica didn’t reply as his words hung between them laden with hidden emotion and unspoken desire. Her fingers spread out to cover more territory on his chest and his arm adjusted his hold on her waist until they were separated by only by their clothes and the blanket. Neither of them dared to say or do anything to upset the delicate balancing act they were performing on the point of no return, and they both knew that one sign from the either of them would tip them over the edge. It would be so easy to overcome his objections and make him forget the nurse for a few minutes, but she couldn’t bring herself to try. Sex wouldn’t change things between them and would only ruin their tenuous friendship beginning to blossom between them.

Most of all, Jessica refused to be responsible for ruining his life again. She’d done enough damage already, so she pulled away from his heat and escaped the cocoon of his arms. She stood on wobbly legs as she gathered up her pillow and blanket before heading for her bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, concern and something else coloring his tone.

Jessica did not let herself look back at where he was spread across her bed and she replied emotionlessly, “We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow and I need some sleep. I’ll take the couch, and you can have the bed.”

Without waiting for a reply, she walked away and left her heart behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Let me know what you think about the bonus chapter! I'm having a wonderfully relaxing weekend at home with unlimited time to write, so I will be working on the next chapter tomorrow. I know this last one was angsty and sad, but there will be more moments between them in this story. We'll see how it unfolds, because it is clear to me that they still have feelings for each other. Have a scrumdiddlyumptious weekend wherever you are in the world. Peace and kindness to you all, and a very Happy Mother's Day to all that celebrate it. I will be celebrating by chasing my family out of the house, so I can have it to myself for two precious hours.**


	7. Karen Hates the Alarm Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: UDS ahead. Nothing like a little morning sex to start the day. Dedicated to those who were disappointed at the end of chapter five ;) **

Karen worked on her article until her eyes were gritty and her fingers ached, but by the time she closed the lid on her laptop at 4:30 am, she was satisfied that she had given Luke’s encounter with the police the justice it deserved. She stumbled to the bed, curled up behind Frank’s sleeping form, and crashed for a precious few hours of sleep.

It seemed like only seconds had gone by before her eyes cracked open to the sound of her alarm clock. It was still dark in her bedroom, the only light illuminating the black being the red digital numbers on the noisy clock. Frank stirred to life behind her and reached over her body to turn it off before settling back in the bed. He grunted and rumbled in his chest as he turned to his side, threw his leg over top of hers, and pinned her to the bed beneath his crushing weight. His palm landed on her left breast and he idly squeezed it as he mumbled in her ear, “What time did you make it to bed?”

Karen fought to keep her consciousness awake, but it was difficult to do with little sleep and a whole lot of heat keeping her paralyzed. “Mmm...two hours ago,” she managed to reply sleepily.

Frank’s breaths were slow and deep, but his hand kept busy exploring the texture, heft, and shape of her bare breasts. “Call in sick,” he demanded, his words slurred, but grumpy.

Karen stretched her body against his, and her ass brushed against his thick, stiff cock. She wiggled against him until he groaned and tugged her in closer to his hips. “Can’t. Meeting with boss at 8.”

Frank snorted softly, and his beard rubbed against her neck as his hand lazily trailed down the slope of her belly toward her pussy. She sucked in a ragged breath as the callouses from his fingertips tickled the crisp hair at its cusp. “Fuck.”

Karen freed her top leg from his and spread herself open to his questing touch. “Yeah,” she agreed on a gasp as two fingers sank deep inside her. “I can skip out for the day right after, though. Help you and Luke.”

His fingers stilled against her swollen clit that he’d been slowly rubbing, and he grumbled, “Too dangerous.” His fingers picked up their maddening pace again before dipping back inside her for more lubricant. “God damn, you are always so wet,” he breathed against her ear as his fingers glided in and out of her.

Karen moaned as her exhausted body responded to his touch and she rolled her hips against him in search of his cock. “Every time you’re near,” she confirmed, reaching her hand behind her to grip his length in her hand. “I’m still going,” she added, squeezing his cock for emphasis.

Frank grunted and thrust into her grip. He removed his fingers from her sheath and helped her guide the head of his cock to her entrance, and she sighed with satisfaction as she slid down with ease over his thick girth. He hummed deep in his chest as he bottomed out inside her, and rasped, “I know. Bring your gun.”

Karen smiled with her eyes closed and lay pliant as Frank’s big hand pushed and pulled her hip to aid his lazy thrusts. “I will,” she answered as she floated in that pleasurable place between reality and dream. “God, you feel so good,” her mouth said without consulting her.

Frank anchored his foot on the bed to thrust deeper and harder, and his fingers resumed their torturous circles around her clit. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he said, his words muffled by the fall of her hair.

Karen’s hips jerked as her desire steadily and swiftly wound tighter and tighter in her gut. She understood how Frank felt, because he drove her crazy, too. Sex with Frank Castle had been a revelation to her. Her pleasure was his priority, and he had never failed in his mission to make her come first. Testosterone exuded from his very pores, and her body reacted to it by growing wet and aching. When he wasn’t fucking her, she was thinking about it and impatient to do it again.

“I know,” she groaned into her pillow as the head of his cock pummeled her G-spot over and over. “Yes! Keep doing that,” she begged, as his fingers picked up pace against her clit.

He answered by thrusting hard against the cushion of her ass as his fingers lured her climax to the surface. He withdrew slowly before resuming the short, quick thrusts aimed at the front wall of her vagina. Her breathing grew ragged and her body woke up to rock against him. Frank’s lips licked and sucked a path across her bare shoulder, and she gasped when he added his teeth as his thrusts grew faster and more uncoordinated. The small flash of pain from the abrasions to her skin echoed throughout her body and ignited the tight coil of her pleasure, and she came with his name on her lips.

“Oh, God,” she moaned in her pillow as her body crested over and over.

Frank showed her no mercy as he continued to pump into her harder and faster despite the clench and release of her walls around him. His breaths were harsh and steaming hot against her neck as he fucked her through her climax, and his chest rumbled with animalistic growls each time he bottomed out. Even though she was spent, she lifted her leg to give him more room, and he repaid her by using every bit of it. The last two inches of his shaft joined the rest of him in stretching and pounding her body into submission. She cried out when he pulled her hips back as he thrust deep, and he snarled in her ear a mixture of curse words and prayers as he poured himself out inside of her.

“Jesus,” he panted against her shoulder as his thrusts slowed and his hips grew lazy once more. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

"Good," she replied sincerely. Karen forced her heavy limbs to move, and she arched her back to feel him press against her cervix one last time before she regretfully rolled away from him. Frank protested with a wordless grunt and tried to coax her back into his arms, but she persisted in escaping from him. She leaned in to kiss his cheek in the darkness and combed her nails through his messy hair, and whispered, “I’m going to be late for work.”

Frank grumbled and planted a sloppy kiss against her breast before he replied, “Be careful, and get your sexy ass back here as soon as possible.”

Karen chuckled and dragged her exhausted body out of the bed and fumbled her way toward the bedroom door. She paused and glanced back longingly at where she could see the dark shadow of his big body still sprawled out in her bed. “Don’t you have to get up, too?” she asked plaintively.

“Nope. No other jobs on the books today,” his sleepy voice carried through the darkness with smug tones.

Karen frowned with a mixture of pique and suspicion. He’d been saying the same thing a lot over the past few months, but he always managed to have plenty of cash in his pocket. Her reporter instincts tingled, and she reminded herself to look into it later. For now, she only had enough energy to make it to the shower. “Okay, then text me when and where to meet you and Luke, and I’ll join you in a few hours. See you soon.”

She didn’t think he would reply since she could clearly hear his snores gaining in volume, but as she walked toward the bathroom, she could have sworn she heard him say, _“Love you, too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Not gonna lie, this chapter was a shameful excuse to write smut as a gift to myself on Mother's Day. My amazing family stayed busy and out of my hair all day just so I could write as much as I wanted to without interruption, and it was amazing. Now, I am sharing my smutty gift with you. You're welcome. Now, I'm off to finish my holiday by eating a delicious dinner that I will neither have to pay for or cook myself before catching up on my Grey's Anatomy, Supergirl, and The Flash episodes. Best. Mother's Day. Ever.**


	8. Karen Assembles the Junior Avengers

Three shots of espresso, two meetings, and five hours later, Karen’s phone buzzed with a text message from Frank. Without even opening it, she saved the draft of her story about Luke Cage’s interaction with the police, grabbed her oversize bag and purse, and sprinted out the door of her office. As she passed by the office of her editor, Mitchell Ellison, she called out, “Following up on a big lead! See you Monday!”

“It better be another exclusive, Page! Keep me in the loop!” his voice carried down the hallway behind her and all the way to the elevator.

As the elevator descended down to the lobby, Karen fished her phone out of her pocket and pulled up the message. It was short, but sweet, as per his usual.

 

Frank: _Alias Investigations at 1. See you there, doll._

Karen checked her watch. She still had an hour and a half before the meeting, which meant that she would beat him there by forty-five minutes. That would be plenty of time for Luke to read the article, and for her to change her clothes. Hopefully, Jessica would be awake and ready to go when she got there, but she wasn’t holding her breath. She would need every bit of that time to bully her friend into making herself presentable. With that thought in mind, she made her way toward the nearest bus stop and caught the bus heading toward Jessica’s building. Taking the bus took longer than a taxi, but she just couldn’t justify the expense if it wasn’t an emergency.

Seven bus stops and forty-five minutes later, Karen arrived at the door of Alias Investigations, a.k.a. Jessica’s apartment. Her knuckles rapped on the door, and a large shadow appeared behind the glass before it was opened by Luke Cage. He smiled and opened the door wider, and Karen tried not to gawk at how perfectly his tee shirt molded to his chest as she walked inside. He was an obviously attractive man, and Karen was not blind, but she knew how to appreciate fine art without touching it.

“Luke, I’m glad you’re here,” she said after they exchanged pleasantries. “I finished the article I’d like to publish with the video. I’m hoping you’ll agree to let me publish it in full after you read it.”

Luke shut the door quietly, and his voice was cautious when he replied, “I don’t know that it will change my mind. I’m not trying to be famous, Miss Page. I just want to live my life and help people along the way.”

Karen walked over to place her purse on Jessica’s desk that was suspiciously devoid of three-day-old pizza and empty whiskey bottles. “Call me Karen,” she answered as she pulled some folded papers from inside her purse. She turned and handed them to him and said, “Just read it. That’s all I ask.”

Luke unfolded the papers reluctantly and nodded his head slowly. “Alright. I can do that, Karen,” he said with a smile. He settled himself on the small, holey couch and began to read.

Jessica’s office was remarkably barren and orderly compared to the usual mess she’d found over the past several months, and her kitchen was spotless with the scent of fresh coffee perfuming the air. That could only mean one thing. “I take it that Jessica is still asleep, and you cleaned her apartment?” she asked, no real question in her tone.

Luke hummed in the affirmative and replied distractedly, “Yeah, I moved her to the bed a little while ago. I’ve been up for hours.”

Karen shook her head and made her way down the short hall to Jessica’s bedroom, her bag swinging from her shoulder. Without knocking, she walked right in to survey the damage. Her eyebrows flew up her forehead and she marveled at the stacks of neatly washed and folded laundry piled on the dresser and the lack of general detritus littering the floor. This did not look like Jessica’s bedroom. It was too neat, too orderly, too _clean_ to be her friend’s bedroom. If it weren’t for the woman herself snoring softly in the bed, Karen would have thought she had the wrong room.

Jessica was curled on her side with blankets tucked up around her neck, and she looked so young and ethereal with her dark hair curled around her pale face. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, her complexion was chalky, and the corners of her eyes creased as if in pain. Karen’s heart thumped against her chest, and she walked over to the bed to sit on the edge next to her friend.

She reached out and tucked a dark lock of hair behind Jessica’s ear and said softly, “Jess, it’s time to get up. Frank will be here in less than forty-five minutes, so you need to take a shower and get dressed.”

Jessica mumbled and pulled the covers over her head, but she replied grumpily, “Go away. I’m not buying your Girl Scout cookies today.”

Karen sighed heavily and heaved herself to her feet. “I tried to be nice,” she reminded her a split second before whisking the covers off her friend.

“Sonovabitch!” Jessica snarled, pulling a pillow over her head. “One of these days, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Karen was not impressed with the threat that she’d heard a hundred times over the past year. She snatched a clean towel off the pile on her dresser and tossed it at Jessica’s naked legs peeking out of an extra-large tee shirt that dwarfed her small frame. “So you keep telling me,” Karen replied drolly. “Get your ass out of the bed and into the shower. Luke made fresh coffee and I saw a bakery box on the kitchen counter. You can have some as soon as you are showered and dressed.”

Jessica’s voice was muffled beneath the shield of her pillow when she replied waspishly, “I don’t want coffee and I hate bakery boxes.”

Karen dropped her bag on the bed and began pulling out a dark-wash pair of jeans, pale green sweater, and sensible shoes. Swiftly, she began unbuttoning her blouse and kicked off her heels as she said, “Suit yourself, but I’m pretty sure I smelled blueberry cake donuts.”

She turned her back to the bed and unzipped her skirt, so it would fall to her feet before she allowed the satin of her blouse to skate down her arms. Out of long habit, she pulled her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder as she adjusted the straps on her bra and prepared to pull on her sweater.

“ _What the_ _fuck_ is that on your shoulder? Are those bruises shaped like fucking teeth marks?” Jessica’s voice sliced through the silence, no longer muffled or even sleepy. Karen glanced over her right shoulder to see her friend sitting up in the bed with a thundercloud look on her face. “I’m going to kill that asshole.”

Karen could feel her face heating with a combination of embarrassment and righteous anger. She hastily pulled her sweater over her head and sat down to shimmy into her jeans as she replied tightly, “It’s none of your business, Jess. Believe me, everything we do together in private is entirely consensual and very much enjoyed. Don’t you breathe a word of it to him, do you hear me?”

The bed jostled and moved beneath her, and Jessica appeared before her in all her wild-haired, dragon-breathed glory. “That’s bullshit, Karen. He’s leaving bruises on you, and that’s not acceptable. That’s abuse.”

Karen stood to her feet and faced her friend eye-to-eye. “No, it’s not abuse; it’s really good sex. Scratch that, it’s fucking amazing sex with someone I care for, and I’m not about to justify it to you or anyone else. I’m not going to apologize or make excuses for what happens in my bed or out of it.”

Jessica’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead at this pronouncement, and her tone was surprised when she said, “Oh, my God, you like it. You like the fact that he leaves his marks all over you. Color me impressed. I never knew you were a freak in the sheets, K.”

This time, her blush was pure embarrassment, and she hid her face by reaching down to pull on her shoes. “What can I say? He’s that fucking good.” Karen made herself meet Jessica’s expressive black eyes, and her gaze did not waver. “I need this. I need _him_.”

Jessica swallowed thickly before she broke eye contact to snatch the clean towel off the bed. She padded across the floor toward the bathroom, pausing at the door to gaze toward her office where Luke was reading the article. “No worries. I get it. I’ve been there before, too,” she said, her voice barely carrying across the small room.

Without another word, she walked away.

Karen’s chest squeezed with empathy for her friend’s pain. Over the past year, Karen had become an expert in reading the emotions and intentions behind the sarcastic quips, dark humor, and drunken ramblings. Jessica was a master at hiding her vulnerable heart, and she was the captain of self-destructive behavior. No matter what Jess did or what she said, Karen always kept reaching out to her, though. Jessica wasn’t just lonely; she was alone. Karen understood that feeling better than anyone, so she refused to let Jessica push her away. She was not going to let a good woman turn feral from lack of family. Karen would be her mother, her sister, her friend, and her safety net; she would be her anchor to life.

Even though the prickly private eye had never confessed as much to her, Karen knew that Jessica was still in love with Luke Cage. Each time his name came up in conversation, her eyes would brighten, and her spine would straighten as she tried to act like she didn’t care. Karen could see through her, though. Luke wasn’t just the one that got away; he was the one she could never have. So, she settled for a man like Oscar who gave her safe place to pretend she was a normal woman for a little while. Karen knew it was a relationship doomed to fail, because he was not Luke. Karen understood that feeling, too, because she had felt the same way about Frank.

The sound of knuckles rapping against glass echoed through the tiny apartment and brought her out of her musings. Hurriedly, she straightened her clothes, brushed her hair, and stuffed her clothes back in her bag before making her way toward the sound of rumbling male voices. Frank was fifteen minutes early, but she was not about to complain. She stepped in the room ready to greet him, but she drew up short with pleasant surprise when she saw that it wasn’t Frank, after all.

The man talking to Luke was tall and slim with cropped, sandy curls on his head and a closely-trimmed beard of the same color on his face. What really made him stand out, though, were his vivid, pale blue eyes. Karen’s face lit up with genuine delight, and she rushed over to throw her arms around him in a compulsive hug. He awkwardly returned her embrace, but his lips were tipped up with a smile.

“David!” Karen exclaimed, pulling back to greet him. “I didn’t think you would actually come in person!”

David Lieberman lifted the strap of his laptop case over his head and walked across the office to lay it on Jessica’s desk next to her own computer. “Me, neither,” he replied drily as he stuck his hand out to Luke for a shake. “David Lieberman,” he introduced himself as Luke shook his hand. “I’m a big fan of your work, Mr. Cage.”

Luke shot Karen a confused look before answered him, “My work? Considering the fact that I am currently unemployed, I would say that it doesn’t take much to impress you.”

David began unpacking his laptop as he explained animatedly, “I wasn’t talking about your job, man. I was talking about your work with the other Defenders of New York City. I’ve read all about you from eye witnesses on the dark web. Taking down Cottonmouth and Diamondback? Fucking amazing, man. Not to mention the whole incident that happened at Midland Circle. I mean—”

“For God’s sake, Littlejohn,” Jessica interrupted him rudely as she walked in the room. “Take a breath and change your panties before you make a mess everywhere.”

David’s expression melted, and he shot her a peeved look. “Jessica. Always a pleasure, as usual,” he replied sarcastically.

Karen shook her head at the antagonistic bickering that ensued between David and Jessica as the latter poured herself some coffee and liberated a donut from the bakery box. As the two of them continued to snipe and banter with each other, Luke turned toward her and asked, “They do this often?”

Karen chuckled and replied, “If by often you mean the two times they’ve met, then yes, they do.”

Luke joined in her rueful laughter before he grew serious once more. He tapped the folded papers in his hand against his thigh, and lowered his voice to add, “You can publish it. All of it.”

Her face lit up with joy, and she waved him off when he tried to hand the papers back to her. “You keep that copy. Thank you, Luke, for trusting me. I won’t let you down.”

Luke frowned. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Karen. It’s everyone else.”

Before she could reply, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them all. Karen rushed over to throw it open, and her face split with a happy smile when she saw Frank standing there. Without caring about their audience, he pulled her into his chest for a long, slow kiss that turned her blood into molten lava. By the time he released her, she was pretty sure she would have to change her panties, too.

Frank entered the apartment, shut the door, and surveyed their motley crew of heroes for hire. He did not look impressed at all, but Karen was excited. Between Jessica and Luke’s superpowers, David’s hacker skills, and Frank’s weapons, they had everything they needed to track those women down and return them to their families. There was no way she was missing out on this epic opportunity to help.

Frank collapsed on the couch, pulling Karen down beside him, and announced, “Looks like we’re ready to go hunting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Whew! It took me a few days to hammer this one out. Between work, home, broken vehicles, and preparing for my oldest daughter to graduate college this Sunday, I've been stretched a little thin. I will do my best to keep cranking out the chapters over the next few weeks, but it may take a bit longer because of birthdays and graduations. Thank you to everyone to who has taken the time comment. Y'all make strong. Peace and kindness to all of you!**


	9. Frank Agrees With Cage...Once

Frank looked around the small office and observed the motley crew of people assembled together for this mission. He’d worked with hardened marines, skilled corpsman, and elite special forces in combat missions over the course of his career, and he had trusted every one of them to have his back. This team was different. There were no highly-trained operatives in this crew that knew how to utilize weapons, eliminate the threat, and secure the targets. Instead, he was reduced to working with a bullet-proof battering ram and an alcoholic strongwoman. At least he knew he could trust Lieberman, even if he wasn’t a reliable fighter. That left only one person to watch his back, and it was the one person he didn’t want to be there.

It wasn’t that he had doubts about Karen’s ability to use a gun, because he had been with her at the gun range several times over the past months. Karen was an adept shot, and never hesitated to pull the trigger. He knew that if it came down to it, she would use her gun to protect herself and others, but he didn’t want to actively put her in the cross-hairs. He wanted her somewhere safe, away from the danger, so he could focus on the mission and not on keeping her from harm. He didn’t want her anywhere near Harlem, the trafficking, or the violence that was sure to come by the end of the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to stay home. Karen had proved herself too many times for him to pull a caveman stunt like that, so he would just have to keep himself between her and the gunfire when shit hit the fan.

He tugged her in closer to his side by throwing his arm around her, and he tuned out Lieberman’s droning to think about her. Karen Page was like nothing he’d ever known before in his life, and he was still trying to figure out what was happening between them. Karen was an exquisite contrast of textures, colors, and flavors; she was both soft and hard, light and dark, sweet and fiery. She surprised him all the time and kept him on his toes, but he only wanted her more every day. They never spent a night apart anymore, and they stayed equally at both places. There were nights when he would crawl in bed with her and she would be sleeping with her hand stretched out to the empty side of the bed. There were other nights, like last night, when he fell into bed exhausted while she stayed up late to write an article for the _New York Bulletin_ , but his favorite nights were when they got ready for bed together. They would fight over the sink as they brushed their teeth, she would go through the motions of wearing pajamas, and he would take them right back off before they collapsed on the bed naked. What happened next was the best; they would touch and lick and fuck like they had all the time in the world. There was no adrenaline, no fear, and no anger to fuel their touches; it was just the two of them learning each other. He couldn’t lose those rare nights with her. He couldn’t lose her.

“Frank! Are you even listening to me?” Lieberman rudely cut into his thoughts.

Frank reluctantly pulled his attention away from Karen and put it back on his cranky friend. “You have the list of properties and have narrowed down the possible location site to three different places. Did I miss anything?” Frank retorted with raised eyebrow.

Lieberman opened his mouth to speak, but Jones beat him to the punch. “Damn, you did better than me. I quit listening as soon as his mouth opened.”

“You know what?” Lieberman exclaimed angrily to Jessica. “Consider yourself uninvited for dinner this Sunday. Your loss, because Sarah is making lasagna and chocolate cake,” he announced, his face smug with revenge.

Jones rolled her eyes and snapped, “You’re not the one that invited me, so I think I’ll be eating lasagna with Leo come Sunday, Libertarian.”

Frank couldn’t resist the opportunity to fluster the fussy hacker, so he piled on. “How come you never invite me and Karen to Sunday dinner? Maybe we might like to have a homecooked meal, too, you rude, lasagna-withholding asshole.”

Frank’s lips quirked with humor as Karen elbowed him in the ribs, Lieberman began stammering, and Jessica swooped in for the kill with several more well-placed jabs to his ego. Cage, however, was apparently in no mood for team-building exercises.

“Can we stop talking about Sunday dinner and get back to the three addresses, please? The clock is ticking, and I’m tired of doing nothing,” the big guy interrupted with impatient tones.

Lieberman snatched at the excuse to exit the discussion about dinner. His fingers tapped across the keys of his laptop, and he turned the screen to face the rest of them. “Right, uh, Theodore ‘Teddy’ James owns 42 properties in Harlem, indicated here by red dots. I was able to eliminate open restaurants, apartment buildings with established tenants, and businesses that would be too visible to the public to be involved in human trafficking, and that brought me to these three.”

All the dots disappeared with the exception of three pulsing red lights that lured Luke in closer. Karen leaned forward to see it better and asked, “What are those places, David?”

Lieberman pointed to the first one and said, “This one is a shuttered nightclub. It has several permits by the city for construction, but there have been no reports of workers or supplies going in or out of there for three months.” He moved his finger a few inches over on the map and continued, “The second one is this building that housed a BBQ restaurant. It went out of business nine months ago when James bought the building and property and promptly evicted the popular neighborhood owners. Besides the restaurant itself, there are a total of four apartments above it, and none of them are registered as occupied.”

He didn’t even have to hear the third one. “It’s the second one. It would be easy to house four women in each one of those apartments. Kitchen in the restaurant to prepare food so they don’t have to risk exposure.”

“No, it’s not the second one,” Luke countered distractedly. “That building had to be evacuated for black mold. The restaurant owner and her husband both had to be hospitalized for weeks. Teddy James didn’t have a choice in closing it down. The health inspector did it for him.”

Frank glowered at Cage. “What makes you think he isn’t storing them there despite the mold? Maybe it’s already been treated and they’re only using the four apartments above the restaurant.”

Luke cut him a sharp look from the corner of his eyes and snapped, “Because it’s too risky keeping them in that building. It’s only one block away from the police precinct and surrounded by businesses with security cameras galore. I’m telling you, those women are not in that building.”

Before Frank could open his mouth, Karen placed her hand lightly on his arm and said, “That makes sense. David, what is the third location like?”

Frank grit his teeth to keep back the words stinging in his throat for Cage. As far as Frank was concerned, he was the one running this op, not Cage. Frank would do whatever was necessary to rescue the women and eliminate the threat to his city. He would work with the man as long as he remained useful; that didn’t mean that Frank would follow his orders.

Lieberman cleared his throat nervously and answered, “The, uh, last one is a condemned office building on W 132nd Street. The windows are boarded up, the doors are barred, and there are no construction permits filed with the city. This was the first property that Teddy James purchased in Harlem.”

 _Fuck,_ Frank cursed silently. He should’ve kept his big mouth shut, because it was obviously the third location. Luke confirmed as much when he replied, “This is the one. It’s on a small side street with no close neighbors, but more importantly, this building is only a stone’s throw away from West Harlem Pier.”

“Oh, no,” Karen breathed at his side, fear lacing her tone. “What if some of them have already been put on boats?”

“Then we will track every one of them down and bring them home,” Jessica surprised everyone by replying first. She glanced at each of them, and noting that all eyes were on her, she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and huffed, “What? I’m an asshole, not a monster.”

Karen jumped to her feet and crossed the room until she stood behind Lieberman’s shoulder. She turned his laptop back around and asked urgently, “David, have you cross-referenced Teddy James’ name with any shipping manifests at the West Harlem Pier?”

Without hesitation, Lieberman’s fingertips flew across the keys of his laptop as Jones joined Karen in looking over his shoulder. Lieberman said, “No, I only looked into real estate holdings like Frank asked me to. Give me just a few more seconds...” he trailed off before he exclaimed, “Got it!”

Karen’s fingers tapped across the screen of her phone as she compared what was on Lieberman’s screen to her own. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she announced, “Like clockwork, he’s had one ship arriving at West Harlem pier at the end of the month for the past six months. Each one of these shipments arrived for him on the last Friday night of the month. Just like today.”

Frank exchanged looks with Cage, and they shared a silent understanding that this was the lead they’d needed. Jones leaned heavily on Lieberman’s shoulder and tapped the screen of the laptop as she added, “These manifests only show imports with no exports except for the most recent one which is scheduled to dock tonight at 9:30 pm. The manifest filed by James’ company states the ship will be leaving port with two containers of ‘entertainment consoles’. Real original, assholes.”

Luke straightened up to his full height and he crossed his arms over his chest, and Frank bristled at the implied authority evident in his stance. “He’s moving the women tonight. We have to get to them before James has them moved to the pier. We should hit the building once it gets dark.”

Frank snorted. “Sure, if you want to get them killed instead of rescuing them alive. He’s keeping sixteen unwilling captives in that abandoned building. That means there’s likely to be a lot of manpower crawling all over the place. If we go in there starting a fight, the first thing they will do is start shooting the witnesses that can name names and give descriptions to the police.”

Luke took a measured step in Frank’s direction, and he stood to his feet to stand on equal ground with the big man. “Yeah? You think it’s a better idea to wait until they get to the docks? You looking to blow up another boat, Castle?”

Frank knew he was no match for the superpowered man, but that didn’t mean he would back down. “You know what?” Frank started to snap, but he was quickly cut off by none other than Jones.

“Jesus, put your dicks away, you two,” she remarked drily. “We’re all on the same team, remember?”

Lieberman snorted and said wryly, “I never thought I would say this, but Jessica is right. We need to come up with a plan together.”

Karen stepped into the fray by adding, “We’re going to have to notify the police at some point, too. Between the building and the docks, there’s too much ground and too many people for us to handle this alone.”

“No,” both Frank and Cage said together. Frank deferred to the other man with a tip of his chin, and Cage finished, “Not until we’ve saved the women and wrapped Teddy James up with a bow. I’m not looking to go back to prison.”

Frank could understand that all too well. “Exactly. No cops until it’s all over the but the crying. They’ll only get in the way.”

Jessica added her voice to the choir. “Sorry, K., but I have to side with them on this. If you saw my record, you would understand.”

Karen sighed wearily and huffed, “Fine, but I’m calling them as soon as you three get clear of the scene. I’ll figure out a way to leave you all out of it.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Frank’s head. He didn’t like where this was headed. “We’ll talk about that part later, doll. For now, let’s focus on the op itself. Lieberman, see what you can dig up on the building and the boat. We need names, pictures, known associates, and whatever else you can dig up in the next few hours.”

Before he could give marching orders to him, Cage spoke up. “I’m going back to Harlem to see what I can shake loose from the gossips in the neighborhood. I need to be doing something.”

Jones, much to Frank’s surprise, piped up and said, “You know what? I think I’ll go with you. Maybe I can get close enough to get some pictures of the building and any sentries they may have stationed there.” She grabbed her camera and her leather jacket and walked toward the door.

Frank exchanged a loaded glance with Karen, but she only said, “That sounds like a great idea, Jess. David and I will do some research here, if you don’t mind me using your laptop.”

Jones smirked and retorted, “Sure, but you’ll need my Windows password. It’s—”

“Let me guess; it’s BigDick69 with a big ‘B’ and really big ‘D’,” Karen finished for her with a chuckle.

Jones’ smile stretched across her face. “No, that’s my Wi-Fi password. My Windows password is BitchSlap23 with a big ‘BS’.”

Frank stifled a surprise snort of laughter. “Real cute, Jones. Keep your phones ready, and we’ll be in touch.”

Cage tipped his head in acknowledgement and held the door open for Jones to walk ahead of him before he closed the door behind them. Frank watched them go with a mixture of relief and agitation. He didn’t like working with the superpowered duo, but they had already committed to a team operation. So far, their little team of Junior Avengers was falling apart at the seams.

He beckoned Karen to join him in the kitchen out of earshot of the busy hacker, and she willingly joined him with a smile. He pulled her into his chest and buried his nose behind her ear and inhaled the scent of her floral-coconut shampoo and reveled in the feel of her arms wrapping around his neck. She felt so fucking good in his arms, and her body fit against his like a puzzle piece snapping into place.

“If you think that you’re going to stay behind at the scene after we leave, you are wrong. This isn’t Huntington, and I’m not leaving you behind again. This isn’t a request, doll,” he murmured in her ear as he palmed her ass to pull her closer.

Karen hummed happily and rubbed her breasts against him until he could feel her nipples harden beneath her bra. Just as quietly, she replied lightly, “Like you said, Frank. We’ll talk about that part later.”

Frank’s fingers tightened against the cushion of her ass, and he growled, “I mean it, Karen. You’re not pulling another stunt like Huntington. It’s too dangerous for everyone concerned, but mostly for you.”

Karen’s lips found his and she gave him a long, slow kiss. She pulled back to breathe in his mouth, “Not nearly as dangerous as you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Shew! Busy times, folks! My weekend was full of adoption day at the animal rescue, my daughter's college graduation, and becoming a foster for a mama cat and her five sweet babies. It's amazing how little work you get done when five little furballs are running around causing general mayhem in my writing nook/screened-in back porch. The good news is that I have a three day weekend coming up, and very little planned, so I am hoping to buckle down and power through this story! Fingers crossed, June will be a much more laid back month. Because I know you are curious, I will tell you the foster family's names. Cardamom (Mom cat), Coriander (f), Rosemary (f), Sage (m), Oregano (m), and Chives (m), and they are adorable. Peace, love, kindness, and kittens to all of you! I will be back very soon!**


	10. Bonus Chapter: Jessica Goes to Harlem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Jessica Jones for this bonus chapter. Just a sidetrack to tide you over!

Jessica buried her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and walked silently next to Luke as they disembarked the subway in the heart of Harlem. Her trusty camera bounced off her chest with each step she took, and she doubled her stride to keep pace with the man next to her. The late afternoon sun gave a valiant attempt at heating the spring breeze that washed over them as they walked in silence toward an unknown destination, but it failed miserably as winter grasped on tight to send cold chills racing over her skin.

“So, you cleaned my apartment,” she blurted her observation without thought.

Luke paused to throw a hand in the air when someone shouted his name across the street before he answered, “Yeah, I did. It needed it and I had time to kill.”

She fought the embarrassed flush that threatened to creep up her cheeks. “You didn’t have to do that. Friday is my usual cleaning day,” she lied, her tone surly to disguise her shame.

Luke paused at a busy intersection and pointed to the left to indicate their path. He led them across the street amidst a crowd of busy people as he replied drily, “You’re welcome.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I, uh, met Oscar when I took your dirty clothes downstairs to the laundry room. Seems like a nice guy.”

Jessica’s gait fumbled, and she hurried to catch her balance. She pretended her misstep was because of the curb, and replied, “Yeah, he is a nice guy. He’s got a nice kid, too. I try not to fuck up their lives too much, and he cooks me dinner a few times a week. They seem to enjoy my company for some reason.” She laughed wryly to cover her awkwardness.

Luke acknowledged each person they passed with a nod or quiet greeting, but she could tell his attention was focused solely on her. “That’s not the impression I got. He was very...interested in knowing why I was washing your panties. He made it very clear that he was with you, and that I was crossing a line by being in your apartment.”

She cursed silently and hunched her shoulders against the brisk spring breeze that reeked of car exhaust and hot dog water. “I never promised him anything,” she was quick to defend herself. “Besides, nothing happened.”

She waited for him to finish giving a bro hug to a young black man before they continued on their way. “Almost nothing happened, Jess. I shouldn’t have gotten into bed with you,” he replied, his voice pitched low for only her ears.

Jessica’s stomach cramped with hunger and sorrow. “Yeah, well, I told you to get a hotel, but you didn’t listen,” she deflected deftly. “It all ended well anyway, right? I slept on the couch, and you slept on the bed. End of story.”

Jessica halted in her tracks when his hand landed on her shoulder. He turned to face her as curious eyes watched their every move, but she ignored them to meet his dark, stern gaze. “That’s the problem, Jessica. It doesn’t feel like our story is over. I can’t just ignore the way I feel when I’m with you. I don’t think you can, either.”

She could feel the heat of his skin through the leather of her jacket, and she couldn’t look away from the strong, solemn cut of his jaw. “You’d be surprised what I can ignore with enough drinks. Besides, not every story gets a happy ending. Especially not for me.”

Luke reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and ran his knuckle over the slope of her cheek, and her heart leaped before racing into overdrive. His voice was low and gravelly, sending her stomach into freefall, as he said, “You especially deserve a happy ending, Jessi. You earned it, and you deserve it. The only one preventing that from happening is you.”

She leaned into his caress, but before she could reply, someone stopped in front of them and cleared their throat. Jessica and Luke both turned toward the newcomer, and her stomach fell when she recognized the familiar features of Claire Temple, Luke’s live-in girlfriend.

It would be so much easier to dislike her if she were a bad person, but Jessica had found nothing on the nurse from Hell’s Kitchen. Claire Temple was a good person. She took care of her ailing mother, worked at the Harlem Free Clinic, fought for their cause in the bowels of Midland Circle, and had managed to give Luke everything Jessica couldn’t. Jessica couldn’t hate her, but that didn’t mean that she had to be nice.

“Luke,” Claire addressed him, even though her eyes were on Jessica. “I thought you were in Hell’s Kitchen. I didn’t realize you were back.”

Jessica heard the unspoken question in her tone, but she wisely let Luke take the lead. “Actually, I just now got off the subway.” He leaned in to place a soft kiss to her lips before adding, “You remember Jessica Jones?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by her that Claire did not offer her hand for a shake. “Mm-hmm,” Claire responded noncommittally with narrowed gaze. “What brings you to Harlem, Miss Jones?”

Jessica, because of who she was as a person, answered sarcastically, “Oh, you know, just seeing the sights, and doing the tourist thing.” She picked up her camera and waggled it for emphasis.

Claire blinked without expression before she turned to Luke and said, “Can I have a word with you? In private?” Without waiting for confirmation, she took him by the arm and walked several feet away from Jessica out of earshot.

She tried not to let it bother her, but she still felt resentful of the nurse’s sudden appearance. Would Luke have revealed what feelings he still had for her if she hadn’t appeared? What would Jessica have said in return? What was there to say, really? When it all boiled down to it, none of it really mattered. There would always be the specter of his dead wife between them and the knowledge that Jessica had killed her. The only feelings that mattered in this scenario were his resentment and anger and her shame and regret.

Jessica snapped to awareness as Luke rejoined her side without Claire. Jessica watched the nurse walk away toward the free clinic, and she felt relief and guilt at her disappearance. “She had to go to work,” Luke explained unnecessarily. “So, uh, you want to go with me to visit the barber shop? They always have the latest gossip.”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted any excuse to spend more time with him one-on-one, any reason to be close to him. Which is why she said, “No, thanks. Pretty sure they won’t be so forthcoming with a strange white girl in their midst. I’m going to take a walk in the direction of that abandoned building on W 131st. I’ll be in touch.”

Luke glanced around and he lowered his tone to reply, “Just be careful. There are parts of Harlem where it’s not safe for anyone walking alone. Including you.”

Jessica rolled her eyes even as her heart sped up with the evident concern in his tone. “I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as there are no ninjas with samurai swords waiting to ambush me.”

His big hand hovered mere inches from her shoulder, but he did not make contact. His expression softened along with his voice as he replied, “No, no ninjas, but there are plenty of people around here with guns. Just be careful, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

Jessica nodded wordlessly and turned on her heel to walk away. She wasn’t sure if she was headed in the right direction or not, but as long as she put distance between them, it was the right way. She refused to look back as she jogged to catch the bus pulling up to the stop at the corner and joined the queue of people shuffling onboard. She didn’t care where the bus was taking her; she would find her way to the location eventually. She just needed to get far away from her addiction.

She ignored the other passengers all staring at her and looked out the window. She needed to get this case over with as soon as possible. The longer she was around him, the more she would be compelled to ruin his life again by interfering in his relationship. She wouldn’t be the cause of his heartbreak again. The best thing she could do was to wrap this up in a neat little bow and get the fuck back to Hell’s Kitchen.

The bus shuddered to a stop at the next pick-up spot, and her eyes landed on the row of shops outside. Without a second thought, she stood to her feet and shoved past the crowded rows of seats to exit along with a few others. Her stride didn’t falter as she headed unswervingly for the flashing lights in the window that screamed _LIQUOR_ and had advertisements for beer plastered across the door. She did some of her best work when she was hammered, and right now, she needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hope you enjoyed this little bonus chapter! I have been much busier than I anticipated taking care of a nursing mama cat and her five rambunctious babies. Hopefully, they will all be adopted this Saturday and I will have my writing space back to myself! I really want to update quicker, but it is hard to concentrate when ten little furry paws are playing with your toes. I'll be back as soon as I can, my friends! Love and kittens to all of you!**


	11. Frank Gets Ready to Hunt

Frank finished loading the Glock 27 and fit it in his right ankle holster before straightening the leg of his jeans over top of his boots. He stood back to full height and silently took inventory of his arsenal. Touching his left hand to his right armpit, he checked his Kimber Warrior off the mental list before checking his left shoulder for its twin. At his waist, he found his Ka-Bar combat knife, and in his right jeans pocket, he felt the ridge of his Kershaw switchblade. Finally, he knocked on his chest to hear the solid _thump-thump_ of his skull-decorated tactical vest that hid beneath his black tee shirt. He was ready to go hunting.

Karen, on the other hand, was decidedly not ready. It didn’t matter that she had conceded to his demand that she wear a tactical vest of her own, or that her Glock 42 was fully-loaded and nestled in the pocket of her coat. It didn’t matter that she was a practiced shot and knew how to keep her head in a crisis; she still wasn’t ready to see combat as far as he was concerned. And concerned, he was. Logically, he knew that Karen had seen Frank in all his gory glory before, but it was different now. She wasn’t just the cute paralegal or the ballsy journalist to him; she was more. He didn’t want her in the line of fire, and it was that simple. The old Frank would have barked and demanded and forced her to stay behind, but the new Frank had learned from harsh experience that his way didn’t work.

So, even though it went against every instinct screaming in his body, he bit back what he really wanted to say and said instead, “Check your gun and make sure it’s loaded.”

Karen sighed heavily, but she dutifully retrieved her weapon and popped the magazine to count bullets. She popped it back into place and carefully set the safety before slipping it back into her coat pocket. “Yep, it’s fully-loaded just like the last five times you told me to check it,” she replied lightly with a twist of her full, pink lips.

Frank grunted in response as he unplugged his phone from the charger and checked his messages before slipping it in his jacket pocket. “Smart ass. You ready to use it?”

“Yes,” she replied crisply without hesitation. “If the situation calls for it, I will use it.”

He believed her, but he didn’t like it. The only thing he could do was to watch her back in the field.

He walked over to the window and glanced down at the street and saw a shiny, black Nissan Altima idling at the curb. “Lieberman’s here. Let’s move.”

As one unit, he and Karen headed for the door and walked through it. He paused to watch her carefully lock three deadbolts before they descended the stairs toward the street where Lieberman was waiting for them. Thank god he’d driven to the city this time. Frank’s buddy, Curtis, was reluctant to let Frank borrow his car after Huntington. Not because Frank had wrecked or ruined it, either. It was because he’d returned it with new upholstery and carpets and in better condition than he’d received it. Curtis had never asked questions, but he’d also not been quick to loan it out again.

Frank buckled himself into the front seat, and Karen slid into the back and belted herself in. He looked around the interior of Lieberman’s car with a raised eyebrow. “Color me impressed, Lieberman. Hope you got a good security system in this thing.”

His friend snorted and pressed a few buttons on the glowing screen of the sound system. The car filled with the soothing, gravely voice of Bob Segar singing “You’ll Accomp’ny Me,” and Frank reached out to turn the volume down to hear Lieberman reply sarcastically, “I got it covered, don’t worry.”

He pulled out into traffic, and they headed toward Harlem. From the backseat, Karen asked, “So, we’re meeting Jessica and Luke at a parking garage? Why there?”

Frank thumbed through the curt text messages on his phone from between himself and Cage. “I pulled it up on the GPS. It’s only one block from the warehouse.”

“Even better, there are no armed guards or security cameras,” Lieberman added drily as he weaved through the late Friday evening traffic of Hell’s Kitchen. “Tell me again why we have to drive my car?”

Frank rolled the window down and cursed at a taxi driver that tried to cut them off before he turned to reply, “Quit your bitching, asshole. I already told you that I would cover whatever the insurance doesn’t pay.”

Lieberman’s only reply was by sticking up his middle finger. Frank continued talking, this time including them both. “We’ll meet Jones and Cage on the third floor of the parking garage at 19:30. They have some new information that will help us make a solid plan.”

He could hear the soft thudding of Karen’s fingertips across the screen of her smartphone. They did not pause as she said, “That only gives us two hours before the ship docks at West Harlem Pier. That’s a small window for us to free those women.”

Frank shifted in his seat as his adrenaline began to spike, and his inner warrior woke up and stretched. He was more than ready to hunt and eliminate the threat; he could practically taste it. “We aren’t just going to free those sixteen women, doll. We’re going to free the ones coming in on the boat, too. Whether they help us or not.”

The car was silent at his announcement with the exception of Phil Collins crooning _“I can feel it coming in the air tonight...oh, lord,”_ in the background. Lieberman didn’t say anything, but his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. Karen, however, did not stay silent for long.

“I’m in,” her voice drifted to his ears, barely louder than the radio. With iron confidence, she added, “They’ll help us. They aren’t the kind of people that can look the other way.”

Frank grunted his opinion of that, but he didn’t disagree with her. Cage was too responsible and noble to walk away from victims he could save, while Frank was more concerned about the perpetrators. No more criminals, no more victims; it was that simple for Frank. Jones, on the other hand, was a bit of a wildcard. She was historically reluctant to get involved, but she had always managed to pull through in the end. He may not like her attitude or her drinking, but he couldn’t help but to respect the hell out of her. Jones was tenacious and very useful in the field, as long as she was sober. It was when alcohol was added to the mix that she became unpredictable and dangerous. He’d witnessed quite a few of her bad decisions over the past four months, and they had all happened when she was drunk off her ass. He could only hope that Cage had kept her from indulging during the past several hours.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally pulled into the parking structure on Broadway and they made their way to the third story with Lieberman bitching the entire way. Karen was the first to spot Jones and Cage hiding in the shadows and in deep conversation, and they pulled into a parking spot close by before joining the two of them for final planning. Lieberman pulled his laptop out and somehow managed to find a connection inside the concrete garage, and Jones handed him a small memory card from her camera to insert into the adapter on his computer.

“Belly up, boys and girls,” Jones remarked snidely. “It’s story time.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but he still joined Karen and Cage in looking over Lieberman’s shoulder. A few clicks of the mouse, and Lieberman pulled up the first picture. Without even looking at it, Jones started her tale. “That’s the building where James is holding the sixteen girls. As you can see, it’s a complete shithole on the outside, and the surrounding buildings are also empty and/or condemned. His building, however, is bustling with activity.” She paused for a moment to whack Lieberman on his shoulder and snap, “Come on, Librarian, next slide. Jesus, I thought you were good at this shit. Keep up with me.”

Lieberman punched a key, and a new picture filled his screen as he said through gritted teeth, “Fuck you, Jessica. It’s kind of hard to see through my eyes watering up from the fumes on your breath. What did you do, go swimming in a distillery?”

She made a rude noise, but Karen stepped in to diffuse the spat brewing between them. “Please don’t start, you two. We don’t have time on our side.” Addressing Jones, she said, “Keep going. Who is this man?”

Her finger pointed to the picture of a big, muscled black man holding an assault rifle by a metal door. Jones huffed impatiently and answered with a slur, “That’s one of James’ men. He’s guarding the back entrance of the building.” Without being told, Lieberman clicked to the next picture. “That’s another of his men that I captured entering through the door. In the few hours I spent there, I counted three men entering the building without exiting, and several more exiting without coming back. By my estimate, there are around ten armed men in that building at any given time.”

Lieberman continued to click through successive pictures as Jessica explained the grainy photos she’d been able to capture through the second story windows. No one bothered to ask how she’d obtained the photos; honestly, Frank didn’t really care. He just wanted intel. He and Cage took turns asking questions and piecing together their collective investigations as they studied the pictures, the blueprint of the condemned building, and formulated a plan.

Half an hour later, Frank said, “It’s settled. We’ll hit the building before they start moving the women. Cage will clear the door for me, and I’ll head for the stairs, taking out the next sentry. In the meantime, Jones will jump to this fire escape and enter through the window of the big, open room where we believe the women are being kept. She’ll engage the remaining sentries until me and Cage can join her to secure the site.”

“No killing if at all possible,” Luke chimed in with a warning, but he was looking only at Frank. “They deserve to go to prison. Hell can wait.”

Frank grit his teeth against the caustic retort rolling off his tongue. He held Luke’s gaze for an uncomfortable few minutes and replied, “I’m not making promises I can’t keep, but I can promise that any deaths are not laid at your feet. Wouldn’t want to tarnish Harlem’s Hero with blood on his hands.”

Luke’s shoulders straightened, and his nostrils flared with anger. “Listen, you psychotic motherfu—,” he spat before he was interrupted by Karen.

“We don’t have time for this right now,” she announced, bravely stepping between the two of them. “We need to rescue those women and make it to the dock by 9:30. There’s more than just those sixteen that need our help.”

A low curse had everyone looking toward Jones. “Shit. You guys want to hit both places, don’t you? Why not just call the cops and let them handle the docks? The longer we stick around West Harlem, the more likely we are to get caught in the net, too.”

Frank shrugged, not surprised by her response. “No one’s saying you have to come along, Jones. You’re free to walk away at any time. Just say the word, and we’ll come up with another plan that doesn’t include you.”

Surprisingly, it was Lieberman that hit the nail on the head. “Me and Karen are seeing this thing through to the end. Are you really going to let us go in there without you?” he asked, his tone quiet, but strong, in the echoing confines of the garage.

Frank watched as Jones and Cage locked eyes. They didn’t say a word, but Frank could feel the tension of their unspoken communication. Finally, Jones broke away and fished a small flask of amber liquid from the inner pocket of her leather jacket. She unscrewed the cap and tipped it back, and they all watched with fascination as her throat bobbed a half dozen times with her swallows. She tucked the small bottle back into her pocket and cleared her throat.

“Not like I have any other plans,” she finally replied. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

Cage crossed his arms and added, “I’d planned on going by myself, but I won’t mind some company. My sources told me that Teddy James will be at the docks, not at the condemned building.”

“Excellent!” Karen chirped, her tone full of excitement. “Let’s go rescue some women.”

Reluctantly, Frank fell into step with the four other members of their motley crew. Cage and Jones took the lead, Lieberman walked nervously a few steps behind them, and he and Karen brought up the rear. As they exited the garage onto the darkened streets, he reached out to take her hand in his own. She looked over at him with a pleased smile and he squeezed her fingers lightly in response.

“You ready for this, doll?” he murmured loud enough for only her ears.

She squeezed his fingers back and replied confidently, “Yes. Don’t hold back who you are tonight because of me, Frank. I want all of you; body, mind, and heart. That includes the skull, too.”

Frank took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew what she was saying, but the reality of his work was much different than the idea of it. He wanted to believe that she would be unaffected by the blood, violence, and death he dealt in each time he went hunting, but he couldn’t trust that she would look at him the same way after witnessing it in person.

He leaned in to press a firm kiss against her lips before he pulled back enough to whisper, “I hope you mean that, doll, because death is coming to Harlem tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Y'all, I suck. I promised you guys I would be a fast poster, but life decided to rudely butt itself in my way. I am still taking care of five rambunctious kittens, a skittish mama cat, my own four cats, my family, my job, and volunteer work. I am exhausted most of the time when I have a rare hour or two to myself, and it is difficult to get into the right frame of mind to bring this story to life. This is my promise to myself: I will finish this story and I won't leave you hanging for much longer. I love to write and I am committed to this story and these characters. I will keep plugging away a little bit more each day until the end. Hang in there with me! Peace and kindness to each of you!**


	12. Karen is on Guard Duty

Karen waited in the shadows of the alley between two buildings across the street from their target. Her posture was tense, and her hands began to sweat around the solid grip of her gun as she strained to see into the darkening night. David was with her, busily hacking into the security system and cameras so he could be their eyes on the inside. Thankfully, he had come fully prepared for an operation of this magnitude and had handed out earpieces to each of them, so they could communicate easily with one another and coordinate their strategy. The only thing Karen could hear through hers was the echo of her own heartbeat steadily increasing in rhythm as she watched Frank and Luke disappear to one side of the building while Jessica slipped off to the other one.

Logically, she knew she couldn’t go in with them, at least not until James’ men were dispatched, but she couldn’t help but wish she was right there with Frank. She had no desire to pull the trigger herself, but she wanted to be there to cover his back. Blood and death had long ago ceased to frighten her, and she would not hesitate to shoot at anyone who would try to harm him. But she also knew that Frank didn’t want her there. He never said it out loud in so many words, but Karen knew he was thinking it. She could see it written across the tense set of his lips, clenched muscles of his jaw, and in the narrowing of his dark, intense eyes, but he never ordered her to stay behind.

Instead, he’d grown clever in getting what he wanted from her. Before they had reached their destination, Frank had lagged behind the others with a firm hold on her hand. When enough distance had separated them from Jessica, Luke, and David, Frank had asked her to stay behind and guard David while they secured the building. He’d been very convincing with his concern for his friend’s welfare while hyping up the importance of her role in the operation by guarding the vulnerable hacker. Even though she’d realized what Frank was doing, she couldn’t be mad at him for it. Not only was he manipulating her into staying away from the action, but he was protecting her, too. How could she be upset with him for that?

“Got it,” David said softly. “Okay, guys, cameras are up. No external sentries beside the one man covering the back door. Behind that door, I’m seeing two men playing cards at a small table. Both are armed.”

 _“What about upstairs, Lundergan? Tell me what fresh hell awaits me upstairs,”_ Jessica’s voice echoed through their comms.

Karen crept closer to David and peered over his shoulder to see it for itself. David clicked a few buttons, and new CCTV footage flickered to life. She sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of mattresses strewn over the factory floor with women passed out over all of them. The comms crackled to life and Frank’s familiar voice growled, _“What is it, doll? What do you see?”_

David cursed, low and filthy, as Karen replied shakily, “The women are there, unconscious, but I’m only counting fifteen.”

David chimed in to add, “There are three more armed men strolling around the open space. Jessica, get into position beneath the third window and I’ll give you the signal to jump.”

 _“Are you sure you only count fifteen?”_ Luke’s deep voice echoed through her earpiece. _“Dammit, that must mean that James still has the waitress with him.”_

Frank’s tone was like cold granite when he said, _“She’ll be with James at the docks. We’ll get both of them. One target at a time, Cage. Get in position.”_

As Jessica, Luke, and Frank moved to their targets, Karen whispered to David, “If they have a security camera system, shouldn’t someone be watching them? What if they alert Teddy James of trespassers before we get inside?”

David’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, but his tone was distracted as he replied, “There’s monitors upstairs in the room where the women are being held, but I put them all on a repeating loop. They shouldn’t know anything is wrong until it’s too late.”

His fingers flew across the keys of his laptop, and Karen watched the split screen with bated breath. Any second now, all hell would break loose, and her friends would be in real danger. Luke Cage was practically indestructible, so she spared him little of her attention, but Frank and Jessica were special to her. She wasn’t worried about Frank dying; getting hurt, yes, but not dying. He was too lethal, too practiced a killer to die. Jessica, though, was both drunk and vulnerable to bullets. She didn’t always make the best decisions when she’d been drinking.

Silence crackled over their comms as everyone prepared themselves for action. David’s pale blue eyes darted from one camera to another and back as he waited for the perfect time for them to strike. Karen’s blood thundered through her veins as her adrenaline spiked with the tension mounting, and she absently removed her finger from the trigger of her gun in precaution. The last thing she wanted to do was to accidentally discharge her weapon right when David gave the green light. Mistakes like that could be deadly.

Even though she knew it was coming, she still jumped when David shouted, “Now!”

The shattering of glass echoed through the quiet street, and she saw the moment Jessica crashed through the window of the second floor. At the same time, the other screen showed the door swing open and Frank rush inside with a gun pointed. Two flares of light lit up the screen, two resounding bangs made her ear ring, and the two men inside fell to the floor with bullet holes through their foreheads.

Karen’s nails bit into her palms as she watched Jessica take down two of the three men upstairs. Her delivery was sloppy and uncoordinated, but she took them down quickly none the less. The third one, however, had recovered quickly and was drawing his weapon.

The comms crackled to life and she heard Luke snarl, _“What did I say about that shit, Castle? You killed both of them.”_

Both men sounded breathless, and she could visualize them running up the stairs to join Jessica and secure the women. _“I eliminated the threat. Permanently,”_ Frank disagreed rudely.

On the other screen, Jessica was ducking behind a turned-over table as the last of James’ men shot at her repeatedly while advancing on her location. The door to the room burst open and Luke charged across the room with Frank hot on his heels. The shooter turned toward them instinctively, but he had no time to fire before Luke greeted him with a solid upper cut that connected with his chest. Karen winced as the sound of a bone cracking rippled across their open connection, and she watched the man fly across the room to land next to his unconscious coworkers. When he didn’t move, she saw Frank lower his weapon and Jessica stand up shakily from behind her cover.

Frank moved over to the closest woman and squatted at her side to place two fingers against her throat as Luke steadied Jessica and murmured too softly to be heard over the comms. _“They’re alive,”_ Frank announced matter-of-factly as he checked the pulse of the woman next to her. _“Very slow heartbeats, though. They’ve been sedated.”_

Karen was just about to open her mouth and announce she was on her way, when a gunshot rang out over their comms. Karen gasped as she heard Jessica cry out and clutch her thigh. David cursed darkly, and he zoomed the camera in on the last of James’ men. Karen had seen his own gun fly out of his hand when Luke had sent him sailing, so he must have grabbed one off his fallen friend. The only thing that mattered was that Jessica had been shot.

Before he could squeeze off another round, though, his head rocked violently on his shoulders and he slumped over like a string-less puppet. David zoomed back out and caught Frank walking calmly over to put another bullet in his chest and two each in the remaining two criminals. Karen’s hand was shaking as she covered her mouth to keep any noise from escaping her throat, but she knew David could hear the quiet, hysterical keening building inside of her. Luke helped Jessica to an empty mattress and he grabbed a nearby sheet to wad up and press against the wound on her leg.

Frank’s voice rang out with bitterness across the comms as he said, _“That’s why you eliminate the threat.”_

Karen’s ears were ringing, and bile chased up her throat as Luke fashioned a tourniquet out of strips of ripped bedding. She needed to get over there to help her friend. She needed to see Frank’s eyes and know that he was okay.

She stepped back from David and began to turn toward the street when the hair along her neck began to stand at attention. Before she could turn around, though, a cold steel barrel wedged behind her ear. Her heart jumped into her throat as she felt someone big tower over her. “Drop the gun,” an unfamiliar voice hissed. David squeaked and dropped his laptop as he whirled around to confront the intruder.

Without hesitation, Karen allowed her gun to fall from her limp hand. The man pulled her roughly back to his chest and snapped, “Tell Luke Cage that if he wants to see either of you alive again that he better bring my property to West Harlem Pier in one hour.”

The comms crackled to life and Luke’s voice growled, _“That was Teddy James’ voice. Did you guys hear that, too?”_

 _“Karen,”_ Frank’s voice sounded too calm over the crackling connection. _“Karen, what’s going on out there?”_

Apparently satisfied that the message had been received, James turned his gun on the laptop and began shooting. David cried out and backed up to the wall of the alley and closed his eyes against the noise and violence of gunshots in the narrow space. With a deafening squeal, the comm in her ear died, but there was no time to react. James motioned with his gun, and David held his hands up as he stumbled ahead of her and James toward a waiting car idling at the opposite end of the alley. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs as she was dragged and manhandled into the vehicle along with David. James slid into the front passenger side of the large black SUV and slammed the door behind him.

It all happened so fast that it seemed as if she had blinked and ended up in worse danger than if she had been with Frank. As the SUV spun its tires and sped away, she stared down the barrel of Teddy James’ gun and knew with a certainty that Frank would follow them, but that didn’t stop her stomach from roiling with fear. James was a big man, but it wasn’t fat that filled out his frame. It wasn’t his stature or the gun that gave her pause, though. It was his eyes. They were so dark that she couldn’t see the bottom of them, but what she did see in them terrified her. Her arms pebbled with goosebumps, and she pressed herself back into the seat to get as far away from him as possible.

David was no less afraid, but he bravely moved himself into the line of fire. “You just made a big mistake, my friend,” David spat bravely to gain James attention.

The gun swung lazily until it was pointing directly at David’s chest. Karen stifled a whimper as she remembered that David wasn’t wearing a tack vest like her and Frank. James’ full lips quirked up at one corner and his deep voice was condescending as he replied, “Yeah? You think I’m afraid of Luke Cage? I’ve got plans for him.”

Karen firmed her spine and forced herself to meet the cold, dead gaze of her captor. “He wasn’t talking about Luke Cage; he was talking about who was with him. The Punisher is coming for you, Teddy James. He’s going to kill you for taking me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Oh, snap! Things are heating up and the action is HAPPENING! I'm feeling the muse whisper to me again, my friends, so I will be hard at work every chance I get this weekend to write. Have an amazing and wonderful weekend wherever you are in the world, friends! Cross your fingers and send good vibes that my foster kittens find a home tomorrow!**


	13. Karen Has a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS** While there are no overt descriptions of rape in this story, there will be insinuations to it. This chapter involves a man searching Karen for weapons, and he touches her everywhere. That is as far as he gets, but I wanted to explain it ahead of time for anyone who may be uncomfortable with that situation.

Teddy James glanced at his driver and they shared a confused look. “You talking about that ex-military asshole that wears a skull on his chest? Bitch, he’s dead. It was all over the news.”

Karen’s fingers found David’s arm, and she clutched his elbow like a lifeline. Even though her palms were sweaty, and her knees were knocking, she schooled her features into a mask of scorn and replied tartly, “You heard wrong. Frank Castle is very much alive, and the Punisher has been active for months. In fact, he killed Paul Conger two nights ago and just shot five of your men back at the building. Though, I’m sure it will be six, because he’ll probably kill the door guard when he finds us gone.”

James’ expression melted, and his gun dipped before he righted it to point directly over Karen’s racing heart. “You’re lying. My sources didn’t say nothin’ about seeing anyone else with Luke Cage today. He was the only one going around Harlem asking questions about me today.”

Karen shrugged one shoulder and replied flippantly, “You’ll believe it when he shows up in one hour with Luke Cage to get us back. And, he _will_ get us back, make no mistake about it.”

David turned his face to her and hissed, “I hope you know what you’re doing. I really don’t want to die today.”

Instead of answering him, she squeezed his elbow, and he immediately withdrew and went silent. Her gaze did not waiver from the empty darkness of James’ eyes, and she willed him to see the truth of her words. She wanted him to be afraid. She wanted him pissing-his-pants terrified, because then he would make mistakes. Fear makes people panic and do things without thinking them through, and that meant there were opportunities for escape. She just hoped she didn’t get them killed in the process.

Before James could come up with an answer, his cell phone rang. He kept his eyes and the gun pointed at them, but still answered his phone. Karen could only hear one side of the conversation, but it made her lips twitch with a repressed smile. “Yeah?...Fuck!...No, tell them to retreat to the docks. We’ll have a welcome party for Luke Cage and his friends all ready for them.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket. His jaw clenched as he glared daggers at Karen, but she refused to look away. His nostrils flared, and he took a deep breath before finally saying, “None of my men from the building are checking in, and three more that were sent in to retrieve my property were shot dead before they could open the door. But you know what? I’m not worried about Frank Castle in the least. Last I heard, he wasn’t bulletproof.”

Karen finally dropped her gaze before she could give him a glimpse at her fear. Thankfully, the SUV came to a stop next to several others parked next to a small warehouse. With the gun still pointed at her, James hustled her and David out of the vehicle and herded them toward the angry faces of his remaining men. David, ever the gentleman, shielded her from their hard gazes the best he could by pulling her close to his back, but it didn’t stop some of them from leering and cat-calling at her as they shuffled into the warehouse.

Once inside, James called out, “Mike and Aaron, get over here and search these two. Take anything you find and disable it.”

David struggled to hold on to her as the two men roughly seized them and began fishing into their pockets. She could hear David cursing and resisting his handler, but Karen was too busy forcing herself not to vomit to pay attention. James’ man was taking his job very seriously, and he ran his hands proprietarily under her arms, over her breasts, and down her belly before shoving his hands into her front pockets. His breath washed over her cheek, and it reeked of cigarette smoke and beer as he fished her cell phone out and tossed it to someone across the room.

“Let’s see what else you’re hiding, blondie. I’mma find out all your secrets,” he murmured nastily.

Karen’s blood turned to ice as he boldly ran one hand down over her crotch. She bucked against his hold and elbowed him hard in the gut with primal rage aiding its force. He grunted and loosened his grip on her, and she pulled away only to spin around and land a solid smack against his cheek. Everything and everyone else around her faded into the background as she contemplated going for the gun in his waistband and shooting him dead. Her breaths were coming too fast, and a raging inferno of heat flooded her face until her vision turned red. He would die for daring to put his hands on her, but this time, she wasn’t waiting for Frank to do it for her.

Before she could jump him, though, her arms were caught from behind and she was wrestled away from the cursing man holding a protective hand over his cheek. Karen fought like a wildcat against the strong hold of the man behind her, but she took the time to memorize the face of her attacker. Her voice was choked with tears of fury as she spat, “You’re a dead man, and you don’t even know it.”

Her ears were ringing so loud that she couldn’t hear the laughter or sharp words from James and his men. None of it mattered to her, except for getting free and getting her hands on a gun. When her eyes focused and her hearing cleared a few minutes later, she found herself being shoved into a chair next to a pretty, young black woman wearing a server’s uniform and apron. Her dark, curly hair was pulled back into a haphazard bun that was on the verge of falling apart, and her starched, white button-up shirt was splattered with droplets of blood. Her mascara was running down her cheeks, one of which was swelling with a contusion, and her hands were tied together in her lap. David landed hard on the ground at Karen’s feet, and she could see blood trickling from his top lip and nostrils.

“Don’t you fucking move from this spot, you hear me?” another of James’ men said roughly, punctuating his words with the point of his gun. “You try anything, and you will end up with a bullet in your gut.”

David spat blood on the floor at his feet, but Karen only nodded. She needed the man to go away and quit paying attention to them. When David opened his mouth to say something in reply, Karen reached out and squeezed his shoulder in warning. Thankfully, he intuited her motives and closed his mouth again. After several long, tense moments, the gunman stalked away to join the others out of earshot.

David turned to face her, and he wiped his sleeve across his nose to clear the blood but ended up smearing it across his cheek with macabre results. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he whispered harshly, darting a glance over his shoulder at the watching men.

Karen’s icy blood thawed, and she reached out to wipe at the streaks of blood on his sweet, earnest face. “I’m fine. Better than you, apparently.” She tossed her head at the quietly sobbing woman in the chair next to her. “We found number sixteen, at least. All we have to do is stay alive for an hour, and everything will be fine.”

David’s bright blue eyes landed on their third, and they widened with hope. “It’s her, the server from the restaurant that Frank saw today. Holy shit, we found her!”

The woman sniffled and used her bound hands to rub her running nose. “Deshawna Hawkins,” she announced, her words interrupted by a sob. “You guys knew I was missing?”

Karen’s heart swelled to bursting with empathy for the young woman. “Yes, one of our teammates saw it happen. We’ve already rescued the other fifteen girls that Teddy James and his men kidnapped, and our turn will happen in less than an hour,” she explained with calm, confident assurance.

Deshawna’s breath shuddered before she asked, “Who are you guys?”

Karen and David shared a loaded look before Karen answered lightly, “That’s David, and my name’s Karen, but who we are isn’t important. What’s important is that you know Luke Cage is on his way here, and he will rescue you. We’re here to make sure you survive it.”

That transformation that came over the young woman was a balm to Karen’s soul. The fear and despair of her ordeal retreated, and in its place, hope and determination began to bloom. “Luke Cage is coming here for _me_?” Karen nodded encouragingly, and Deshawna smiled for the first time. “Tammy is never going to believe this shit.”

Karen joined her for a nervous giggle before she composed herself to address David. “He took my phone. How about you? Do you have anything on you that could help us?”

He shook his head ruefully but stopped abruptly with a wince of pain. “No, the asshole took everything including my comm unit.”

Karen’s heart leapt, and she started to raise her hand to her right ear before she caught herself and dropped it. “I still have mine!” she whispered excitedly. “Can you make it work?”

David’s eyebrows wrinkled in thought, but he nodded and said, “I think so. They have both Wi-Fi and Bluetooth technology, but they won’t work until another one is within range. I need some thin wire to pop the back off the housing.”

Deshawna had been watching them like a tennis match, but at this point, she leaned forward to join the game. “Would a bobby pin work? I got about two dozen of them holding up this hairdo.”

“Perfect,” David answered. “How do we do this without attracting attention?”

Karen’s mind sped ahead of her and furnished the answer almost immediately. “David, you’re going to faint like a damsel in distress, but make sure you do it with your back facing them. Leave the rest to me.”

His eyebrows lowered in consternation, but he agreed with a tip of his head. She turned to Deshawna and said, “You’re going to start crying again, and I’m going to comfort you.”

The young woman’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “I can do that! I’m an aspiring actress, and crying scenes are my specialty.”

Karen blinked in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “Excellent! David, wait for me to hug her before you go down.”

Plan agreed upon, Deshawna began her performance. She hid her face behind her hands and began to sob with heartrending theatrics. Her shoulders shook with her emotion, and Karen’s eyes pricked with sympathetic tears even though she knew it was an act. On instinct, Karen reached out to pull the young woman against her chest and hugged her close. She forgot for several seconds that she had a mission, and instead just comforted the young woman with an embrace. She heard Deshawna whisper softly, _“Thank you,”_ before she remembered her goal. With slow, careful precision, she plucked two hair pins from the woman’s bun, and Deshawna began to pull away from her embrace.

“Sorry about that,” the young woman said ruefully. “I didn’t mean to break down on you like that.”

 _This girl definitely deserves to win an Oscar_ , Karen thought, impressed. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied loud enough for the men to overhear. “You’ve had a rough day—”

Apparently ready for his own turn in the spotlight, David started swaying and grabbing his head. “My head is swimming. I think I’m going to faint,” he announced loudly, and collapsed to the floor in a sprawl at Karen’s feet.

Barely restraining the urge to roll her eyes at his less-than-stellar performance, Karen dutifully hovered over him and used her hair to hide the hand reaching into her ear for her comm. With the earpiece and pins in one hand, she leaned in to murmur in his ear, “That was terrible, but I’ll forgive you if you can pull this off.” She paused to place her contraband in his waiting palm before straightening back up.

One of their guards stepped forward with his gun drawn and barked, “What’s his fucking problem?”

Karen dropped her gaze and forced herself to cower from her captors. “He passes out at the sight of blood. Please don’t hurt him,” she begged, only partly acting.

The man curled his lip and lowered his gun to sneer, “That dude is a pussy. I only hit him one time, and it wasn’t even that hard.” He made a rude noise of contempt and turned back to his friends.

David started to say something, but Karen kicked him in the shin to keep him quiet. The three of them froze for long interminable minutes until Karen was convinced that their guards were no longer actively watching them. “Okay,” she whispered loud enough for her two companions to hear her. “David, see if you can work your magic. Even if we can’t communicate with them until they are already here, we still need every advantage we can get. I’ll see about getting Deshawna’s hands free. Everything else, we will just have to wing it.”

David grunted softly as his hands began to work on the comm from behind the shelter of his body. “That has always worked so well for us before, hasn’t it?”

Karen hid her snort of hysterical laughter behind her hand as Deshawna asked, “No, really. Who are you guys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Okay, I know you guys are all ready to see Frank go "scorched earth" to get Karen back, and it begins next chapter! The next two will be from his POV, and I can promise you there will be blood. The UDS comes later ;)  
> I'm still typing away, folks, so I hope to have the next chapter very soon! Have a wonderful rest of your weekend wherever you are in the world!**


	14. Frank is Too Fast, Too Furious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter is from Frank's POV beginning the moment Teddy James kidnaps Karen and Lieberman.**

“Karen,” Frank forced his voice to be calm as he stood over the bodies of the three dead men at his feet. “Karen, what’s going on out there?”

The only answer was a sharp squeal as the comm in his ear lost connection. In the terrible silence of the room, Frank, Cage, and Jones all held their breath until the echo of three gunshots faded from across the street. Frank didn’t hesitate. He turned and ran for the stairs and made it to the back door in less than five seconds. On instinct, he brought his gun up as he burst into the dark alley at a full run. Three of James’ men caught sight of him, but before they could raise their weapons, they were already dead. He caught the first one directly through his heart, the second one through his throat, and the third one between the eyes. Their bodies were no more than obstacles for him to jump on his way to where he’d left Karen.

By the time he made it to their hiding place behind a dumpster in the alley across the street, they were already gone. Frank cursed and punched a dent in the metal of the dumpster as he spied Karen’s gun and Lieberman’s laptop abandoned on the pavement. He didn’t bother running to the end of the alley, because he could already hear the squealing tires of James’ car racing away. He bent his knees and retrieved Karen’s gun, but his gaze was riveted on the laptop. Three shattered holes splintered the LCD, and there were no traces of fresh blood on the ground. Frank staggered from the wave of relief that swept over him but firmed his resolve to keep going. He had a new mission now, and nothing would stop him from pursing it.

Grabbing the laptop, too, Frank jogged back to the building across the street and climbed the stairs to rejoin Cage and Jones. All fifteen women were still unconscious, some of them in obviously worse shape than the others. Cage was finishing a makeshift bandage around Jones’ wounded thigh, and her usually pale skin was clammy and ashen. This operation was going to hell in a handbag all around him, but that wouldn’t stop him from his mission.

“James took Karen and Lieberman,” he announced without emotion. “We’ve got less than an hour to get them back. Jones, how are you holding up?”

She winced as Luke pulled the last knot tight and replied shakily, “I’ll live, but it hurts like a bitch.”

“It’s a through-and-through,” Cage informed him tersely. “Normally, her body would metabolize it quickly, but the alcohol she drank is slowing the process down. She needs stitches to slow the bleeding.”

Frank analyzed the situation and took charge. “We’ve got one hour. Take Jones to your nurse girlfriend and then meet me at the docks. I’m going ahead to scout the place.”

Cage’s eyebrows lowered, and his tone was not happy when he replied, “Not without me, you aren’t. You can’t take on all those men by yourself without putting innocent lives at risk. Don’t be stupid, man.”

Frank popped the magazine on his Kimber Warrior and quickly reloaded it with another one stored in his coat pocket. “You’re wasting time, Cage. Get her somewhere safe and meet me when you’re done.”

“What about all these defenseless women we came here to save? Are we gonna just leave them here and hope that James doesn’t send more men when we leave?” Luke asked angrily as he gently picked Jones up in his arms to cradle against his chest.

Frank wanted to leave _now_ , but he knew that Karen would want him to protect the innocent first. Thinking fast, he walked over to James’ dead guards and fished a cell phone from one of their pockets. He walked back over to them and handed the phone to Jones. “You got enough bullshit left in you to make a call? If you act like one of the women and call 911, the cavalry will be here in minutes. Let the cops and EMS do their jobs.”

Without protest, Jones grabbed the phone and called 911. Affecting a terrified crying jag, she said, “Help! Please send help! I’ve been kidnapped with fourteen other girls and they are holding us in some abandoned building. The men that were holding us are dead. Please help us!”

Frank made a cutting motion across his neck, and Jones ended the call. “A little dramatic, but believable. You gave them long enough to trace the signal, so we need to leave. Cage, wipe the phone down and toss it next to one of the women. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

He didn’t wait to see if they would comply. He turned on his heel and jogged down the steps, but he paused when his foot accidentally kicked something metallic. His gaze naturally followed the sound, and he saw a can of spray paint bounce off the wall and come rolling back. With a grim smile, he snatched the can and shook it and started spraying a design on the wall next to the two dead guards by the door. By the time Cage strode past him with Jones in his arms, Frank was done and followed quickly after them. He caught up to them once more in the alley across the street and Frank didn’t even break his stride as he passed them by.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Cage called after him furiously. His long legs at up the distance between them until they were matched stride-for-stride. “How do you think we’re going to get out of here, huh? You think we can just catch a cab without raising some eyebrows?”

“Yeah, pretty sure the drunk chick with a bullet wound is going to attract attention even in this neighborhood,” Jessica slurred her two cents.

Frank dug into his front pocket and pulled out a set of car keys and dangled them in front of her nose. “I made a spare set of keys to Lieberman’s fancy car a month ago. I’ll give you two a lift to your place, but then I’m gone.”

Cage snorted, and his voice blended with the sounds of a dark, spring night in Harlem. “I think what you meant to say is that we’ll drop Jessica off at my place, and then _we’ll_ be gone.”

Frank’s eyes scanned the parking structure for potential threats but found none. He motioned Cage to follow him toward the entrance. “You think it’s wise to leave your drunk ex with your current girlfriend? You’re a braver man than I gave you credit for, Cage.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Jones muttered grumpily. “You can stop talking about me like I’m one of those unconscious women back there.”

Frank shot her angry glare and snapped, “You’re about as sober as they are right now. Why don’t you think about that while I go rescue your only friend.”

He didn’t wait for her to reply as he pushed the button to unlock Lieberman’s car with an electronic _bleep bleep_ , and he opened the driver’s door to slide inside. He chafed at the delay of settling Jones into the back seat before Cage folded himself into the front. He hadn’t even closed his door before Frank slammed the car into reverse and peeled out of the garage on two wheels. Cage cursed him roundly as he slammed the door shut and gripped the leather “Oh, Shit” handle.

Frank followed Cage’s terse directions to his apartment as his fingers flew across the screen of his phone. Whoever Cage was texting answered him back quickly and frequently, and Frank surmised that it must be the nurse. He didn’t feel at all guilty for what Jones was going to face when he dropped her at Cage’s apartment. She deserved it for showing up to hunt drunk off her ass.

Cage slipped his phone back into his pocket, but he didn’t say anything. Frank was in the mood to fight, so he said, “Let me guess, Nurse Temple isn’t too happy with you right now.”

Cage looked out the passenger window and mumbled, “That’s none of your damn business, Castle.” He paused for a few beats before adding reluctantly, “She’ll meet us there and take care of Jessica. I’ll handle the consequences for it later.”

In the backseat, Jones was uncharacteristically quiet.

It seemed like Harlem traffic was even worse than usual, and Frank had to restrain himself from pulling a gun and shooting every car and taxi that stood between him and Karen. He cursed the decision to work with Cage and Jones on this mission. He would never make that fucking mistake again. So far, all Cage has done was bitch at him, and Jones got shot through her own negligence. If he had just gone solo on this one, he would have been able to keep Karen by his side and keep Lieberman safe. So much for the fucking Junior Avengers.

Frank pulled up to Cage’s apartment building and began counting down the minutes it would take for Cage to deliver his ex to the next one. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel as he spent the time waiting and allowed his mind to dispassionately formulate a plan for their arrival at the docks. Thank god for Lieberman. Because of him and his research, Frank knew exactly where to go. There were several small warehouses along the pier, but only one of them was located within a stone’s throw of the slip where James’ shipment was expected to dock, and it was currently under lease by one of his shell companies. Frank would find Teddy James there, put a bullet through his head, and take Karen home.

Frank snapped out of his thoughts as the passenger door opened, and Luke Cage slipped into the seat. Without a word to each other, Frank stepped on the gas and sped off down the street toward West Harlem Pier. The silence between the two men was thick and charged with animosity, but Cage was the first one to break it.

“What’s your plan, Castle? It will be pretty obvious if we show up without those women in tow, and I can guarantee that Teddy James will be anticipating an attack. From what I gathered today, he has over three dozen men in his employ. You took out nine of them, but that still leaves roughly twenty-five armed men, and I’m guessing most of them are waiting for us at the docks,” Cage said, his tone giving nothing away about his mood.

Frank weaved in and out of traffic, honking the horn and speeding past pedestrians. He considered Cage’s points, but it didn’t matter. “Good, that will save me time. I hate hunting for stragglers.”

Cage huffed with disbelief and said incredulously, “You really are fucking crazy, man. You can’t just go around killing people, no matter what bad things they’ve done. You can call yourself The Punisher all you want, but that does not make you judge, jury, and executioner. You aren’t God.”

Frank had heard the same thing before a hundred times, but it had as little affect on him as the first time. “There is no God, Cage, and the only justice you can get is the kind you make for yourself. Your problem with me is that you still think that all life is sacred. I know for a fact that it isn’t. I found that out the night my wife and two children were killed in front of me by assholes with guns. The only thing I can do is try to kill them before they kill more innocent people. Dead men hurt no one.”

Cage didn’t bother to reply, but Frank could see him shaking his head from the corner of his eye. The spent the rest of the drive in tense silence once more, but when they were close to the docks, he finally spoke up.

“There’s a small park close to the warehouse where James is likely holed up with his men. Hopefully, that’s where we’ll find the missing waitress, Karen, and your hacker friend,” Luke explained. “We can park the car there and move the rest of the way on foot. That still leaves a lot of open ground to cross.”

Frank pulled off the highway and entered the road that ran along the small stretch of waterfront property. As he drew closer and closer to the warehouse, Frank’s foot grew heavier and heavier on the gas pedal. Without taking his eyes off his target, he reached over and clicked his seat belt and said, “Nah, I think we’ll just drive straight there.”

The building loomed large in the windshield, and Frank could clearly make out half a dozen men carrying assault rifles beneath the security lights around the warehouse. In a split second, he chose the perfect target and stomped on the gas.

“Goddammit, Castle!” Cage yelled, bracing his arm against the dashboard. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Frank relished the sight of the widening eyes of James’ men as they scrambled to run out of the way, but there would be no time. “This is my plan. You better hit the ground running, because I’m not waiting around for you.”

With a roar of the engine, Frank raced into the warehouse lot and took out two men before he jerked the wheel sharply to the right. Lieberman’s car spun on squealing tires in a wide circle that took out three more before he found the final man running hell-bent for leather toward the warehouse door. Frank gunned the engine, the tires screamed, Cage shouted a curse, and the car jumped forward to run the man down. Frank relished the solid crunch of the man beneath the tires before it slammed into the wall of the warehouse and crashed through the door. Lieberman's car came to a grinding halt halfway inside the building.

Cage was moaning and holding his head, but Frank calmly unbuckled his seatbelt, drew his weapon, and exited the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **God love Frank. His character just does it for me. I can't wait to pick up with Frank in the next chapter, and I will be working on it diligently over the next few days so I can post it quickly! I'm having fun again! Yay! Hope you guys are enjoying the action, because I sure am!**


	15. Frank Makes a Deal

Frank’s ears were ringing from the crash of Lieberman’s car, but he could still hear heavy gunfire and shouting all around him in the confusion of the small warehouse. He ducked for cover behind a stack of crates as wood splinters rained down over him like spilled matchsticks. He crept behind more boxes, pausing to peer around the corner, and carefully picked off three more of James’ men before ducking back down amidst a hail of bullets.

Frank’s eyebrows lifted in surprise when various shouts of “It’s him! Luke Cage is here! Grab the weapon!” resounded throughout the echoing, metal building. It appeared that Cage had decided to join the battle, after all. Running hunched over, he dove for cover behind a small shipping container that rang loudly with machine gun fire punching holes through its rusted sides. He encountered two more of James’s men and engaged them in a brutal round of hand-to-hand combat. He took them out with almost no effort at all, even if one of them had managed to slice his tee shirt to shreds with a knife. When the goon saw the eerie, blank eyes of the skull painted on his tack vest beneath, he paused with shock just long enough for Frank to break his wrist, steal his knife, and plunge it through his chest.

Out of the blue, a loud squealing noise made his head throb, and he raised his fingers to his right ear where he had forgotten the comm unit still resided. A crackling, tinny voice filled his eardrum with broken words and phrases that sounded like, _“Frank!....taking us....back door....ship is here....tell Luke....Judas bullets....”_ before the connection died once more.

Frank cursed a blue streak and shouted, “Lieberman! Answer me!” but the comms were dead once more. Before he could ditch his cover and make a run for the back door, the small shipping container began to inexplicably start rising in the air to his left, and Frank started shooting.

“Damn it, Castle!” Cage’s furious voice raised over the sounds of the fighting. “Stop shooting me, you crazy asshole! I may be bulletproof, but it still hurts!”

Frank shot him one more time for good measure before he dropped his gun and peeked beneath the metal container to see Cage straining at the seams to lift it. With a grunt of force, Cage sent the container flying through the warehouse where it took out a half dozen more of James’ men. As if they were one unit, Frank ran next to Cage toward the back door of the warehouse that led to the docks, and shamelessly used the big man’s body as a shield against the remaining gun fire.

Frank wasn’t even breathing hard when he yelled, “Did you hear the comms turn back on? What the fuck are Judas bullets?”

Cage paused in their flight to hurl a large wooden crate that shattered across the body of another shooter before he answered back, “No, I took the comm out when they went dead. Did you just say something about Judas bullets?”

Frank took cover behind another stack of crates, and Cage joined him with eyebrows drawn in concern. Frank popped the magazine on his Kimber Warrior, slammed a full one home, and continued to shoot at James’ men remaining in the warehouse. From this vantage point, he could see everywhere in the small space, and there was no sign of Karen’s buttery-blonde tresses to be seen. “Yeah, Lieberman was able to connect to mine long enough to let me know that they were being led out the back door toward the incoming ship before he said to tell you about Judas bullets. Care to fill me in on what they are? I know my way around weapons, but I’ve never heard of them.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” Cage replied bitterly as Frank lined up his shot and took out another man with two bullets through the stomach. “They’re special bullets that drill into you before they explode. I barely survived my last encounter with them.”

Frank glanced at him incredulously before he turned the gun on Cage and shot one bullet that ricocheted off the man’s dark, shiny forehead. He ignored his partner’s yell of outrage and said, “I thought you were bulletproof? What’s so special about these Judas bullets that they can harm _you_?”

Cage pierced him with a furious glare and peered around their hiding place before signaling him to run. Without question, Frank’s boots rang off the concrete with Cage hot on his heels. Frank could hear the rapid gunfire following in their wake and estimated only four shooters remaining alive in the warehouse. They made it to the door, and Frank wrenched it open before diving to the left to avoid more gunfire from outside. With Cage once more covering his back, they ran for cover behind a beat-up old Chrysler sedan.

As if they hadn’t just run through a hail of gunfire, Cage continued, “They’re made from alien metal that was salvaged from The Incident. Apparently, I’m only immune to man-made weaponry, because I got shot with two of those things and very nearly died. Think about what they would do to you.”

Frank didn’t have to think about it; he’d seen what damage a regular weapon could do to his body. “ _Fuck_ ,” he spat, ignoring the ache in his knees from kneeling on rough concrete. “They have to be expensive which means James likely doesn’t have very many.”

Cage snorted. “He can’t afford more than two, three bullets at the most; all his assets are tied up in property. That means that he will be the one holding them. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to do the job, especially if he could gain the reputation of having killed Harlem’s Hero,” he said, his tone twisting the last two words as if they tasted bitter on his tongue.

That made sense, and it was also information that he could use to formulate a plan. He peered over the hood and he scanned the docks in front of him. At a quick glance, he saw a small carrier boat docked with two storage containers being lifted from the hull. Getting closer to the boat by the second was none other than Teddy James herding three people in front of him at the barrel end of an unfamiliar rifle. He was followed closely behind by three of his men while the remainder stayed behind to pepper them with bullets. Only one person had drawn his gaze, though, and her golden hair was like a beacon shining beneath the dim security lights.

Frank ducked as a bullet shattered the glass of the car window right next to his head. “You were right. James is carrying a rifle I’ve never seen before, and he’s taking Karen, Lieberman, and the missing waitress with him onto the boat. We need to move _now_.”

Cage stared at him for a long moment, and his expression was calculating. “I’ll have your back, and I’ll keep you alive if you can promise you’ll do the same for me. That means we have to work as a team, you feel me? The only thing I won’t budge on is that you can’t kill Teddy James. I want him alive.”

“Deal,” Frank replied immediately. He would have agreed to anything to get to Karen quicker, but in this case, he was smart enough to realize that Cage was useful to him. He would utilize the superpowered weapon at his disposal to achieve his mission quicker, and he didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it.

They stopped short of clasping hands on it, but they each nodded their agreement to the temporary truce. Without another word, they stood to their feet as one unit. Frank opened fire with a gun in each hand, and Cage ripped the back door off the car and held it up like a shield. Taking up position behind the car door, Frank followed Cage at a run toward the dock.

It took less than no time at all to dispatch the five men in their path. Once they were close enough, Frank downed two of them with bullets to the chest as Cage swung the door to send the other three sailing through the air to slam against the metal wall of the warehouse. Without pause, Luke raced after Teddy James, but Frank was running toward his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I swear I'm not trying to torture you guys by keeping you hanging! I really wanted the rescue to be from Karen's POV, so that's what I'm doing next! Thank you guys for sticking in there with me and encouraging me on with your awesome comments. It really does mean the world to me. I'm so excited about this story that I am already back writing on the next chapter. Death has NOT been sated just yet.**


	16. Karen Calls Dibs

Karen’s nerves were stretched taut as chaos bloomed all around them in the warehouse. She knew who was responsible when she heard the squealing of car tires and the echoes of gunfire from outside, and it was shortly confirmed when Teddy James started shouting instructions to his men. David had miraculously “recovered” from his fainting spell, and Karen leaned in to whisper, “It’s him! See if you can connect to one of their earpieces.”

David fiddled with her comm unit as he replied worriedly, “It has to work. We can’t let them charge in here not knowing about the Judas bullets. Those can kill either of them.”

Deshawna leaned in with them, her hands now free from the zip tie, and now solidly a part of their team. Karen was gratified to see the flame of determination in her young eyes, because she would need it to get through this alive. “Are you sure those things will even work on Luke Cage? Maybe Teddy James was duped out of his money by some con men.”

David shook his head definitively. “No, they’re the real deal. From what I gathered, James was talking to the man he purchased them from, and I got the impression the person on the other end was not only powerful, but incredibly rich. He was talking to his boss.”

For the past fifteen minutes, all they had talked about was those damned Judas bullets. It was only because of David’s uncanny knack for technology that they even knew about them. David had just finished repairing her comm unit and had pressed the Bluetooth button until the tiny blue light blinked three times to test it. He’d almost dropped it when Teddy James’ voice had filtered through the earpiece. He’d connected to the man’s cell phone during a phone call and heard James discussing Luke Cage and his recent purchase of two Judas bullets.

All three of them jumped, and David dropped the comm unit when a loud crash rocked the foundations of the warehouse. Karen couldn’t hold back the yelp of shock when a car crashed through the doorway, and she shot to her feet. Seconds later, as James’ men regrouped, the car door opened, and Frank stepped out with a gun in each hand. He was terrible and beautiful in his wrath as James’ men fell beneath his bullets, but seconds later, he disappeared behind some wooden crates.

David scrambled for the comm unit and swore softly as he snapped the back plate on the unit from where it popped off from the fall. “Shit! It popped open when I dropped it. I hope this still works.” He pressed the button on the comm, and all three of them held their breath as the blue light blinked three times.

“You three! Let’s go!” one of their guards snarled as he strode over to them with a gun pointed their way. “We’re moving.”

Without waiting for their compliance, two more joined him to corral them out the door, and one of them was the same man she’d smacked the shit out of less than an hour before. His black eyes were flat and full of snakes as he stalked toward her and said, “I got dibs on this one.”

Instead of flinching back from him in fear, she stepped forward to meet him. Not only did she want to prove to him that she wasn’t afraid of him, but she also wanted to give David sufficient time to slip the earpiece in his ear. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing,” she spat back at him, only half acting.

He reached out and snagged her arm and pulled her forward and toward the door. “Oh, I’m gonna have a good time breaking you in, blondie. In fact, I’mma keep you for a while.”

Karen had no time to reply, no time to even think, as the gunfire and chaos surrounding them ushered them toward the back door with guns digging into their spines. There was no longer any time left for subtlety. As the three men hustled them toward the back door where Teddy James was waiting for them, Lieberman’s voice rose with excitement and fear. “Frank! Frank, can you hear me? They’re taking us out the back door! The ship is here, and so is Teddy James. Tell Luke that he has two Judas bullets! They can kill him!”

The man escorting David, the same one that had searched him before, hit him across the cheek with a backhand that rocked his head on his shoulders. Karen cried out in fear, anger, and dismay when she saw the comm fall out of his ear and hit the floor before it was crushed beneath the man’s boot. He shoved David roughly through the door, following Teddy James, and Karen and Deshawna were herded after him. Once the door fell shut behind them, the sounds of gunfire and yelling were muffled, and her chance at glimpsing Frank evaporated once more.

“Did he hear you, David? Do you think Frank got the message?” she whispered urgently as they were pushed and shoved forward.

He dabbed at his bloody nose with a grimace and replied harshly, “I have no idea. The connection was terrible and full of static. I just don’t know.”

“You two, shut up! No more talking from either of you, or I’ll kill you right now,” Teddy James snarled as he prodded Karen in the back with his weapon.

Her skin crawled as she was manhandled roughly along with the others as Teddy James dug the barrel of his rifle between her vertebrae with every step. He took up position behind them as five more of his men spread out behind them as a buffer. James urged them forward, closer to the dock where a small cargo ship was dropping anchor. David was once again wiping blood from his nose and lip with a surly, angry swipe of his sleeve, and Deshawna had lost some of the sparkle and fight from the past hour. Karen, however, was more determined than ever to bring this farce to an end.

They were halfway down the dock when the warehouse door banged open once more, and Karen whipped her head around in time to see Frank and Luke run out the door and take cover behind an old car. “It’s them,” she breathed, as James picked up the pace toward the gangway of the docked cargo ship.

She had to do something, and time was running out for everyone. She couldn’t allow Frank and Luke to come charging in without knowing about the Judas bullets. She also couldn’t allow them to be taken onboard that boat. There was no way of knowing who could be waiting for them, and she didn’t want to take the chance of being cut off from Frank. She was going to have to do something drastic without endangering either David or Deshawna, but what could she do?

The deafening squeal of wrenching metal pierced their eardrums, and everyone turned back to watch Luke Cage and the Punisher heading straight for them with a car door as a shield. Instead of pausing to watch the ensuing fight, though, Karen took advantage of Teddy James’ distraction. She pivoted to the right and threw herself at James as she pushed the barrel of the rifle into the air.

The rifled discharged into the air, and she and James tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and weapons. Her ears went deaf to everything but Teddy James, and her vision tunneled on the handgun tucked into the waist of his pants. All she had to do was buy a little bit of time, and Frank would be there. She would not be the helpless damsel waiting for rescue, though. She was Frank’s partner, and she would damn sure do her share of the fighting, too.

Primal rage welled up in her guts and spilled over into blood like liquid fire. She fought him, kicked him, punched him, and grappled for control of the rifle. He was not idle, either. He bucked and fought her off and tried to scramble to his feet, but she would not let him. Whether by chance or by intent, he dropped the rifle and curled his fingers into a fist.

Time slowed to a crawl and hung suspended as she watched him draw his fist back in preparation to swing, but his handgun was already in the palm of her hand. The only noise she heard was the click of the safety releasing beneath her thumb, and the only thing she could see was his death or hers. She buried the muzzle of the gun in his ribs, her finger caressed the trigger, and the she shot him.

Her ears buzzed with complaint against the report of the gun, but she didn’t need to hear him take his dying breaths anyway. Vaguely, she felt the impact of his aborted swing glancing off her cheek, but she paid it no mind. The pain was easily pushed away as unimportant, because she was not nearly done with him yet.

She couldn’t hear herself speaking, but her lips formed the words as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “That was for every woman and child you harmed, you piece of shit. Burn in hell.”

His chest shuddered against hers before collapsing and deflating beneath her. She wasted no time in enjoying his death, because there was another one that needed to join him. Fluidly, she stood to her feet, snatching the rifle on her way, and scanned the area for her next target. Still in slow motion, she dispassionately noted David trading punches with his guard, saw Luke take the bullets meant for Deshawna from her guard’s gun, and saw Frank take aim at her target. Her panicked guard swung his gun from Frank, to Karen, and back as he stared down certain death.

Without hesitation, she lifted the gun and pointed it directly at the chest of the dirtbag that had dared to touch her, and said clearly, “Dibs.”

Frank clicked the safety on his gun at the same time Karen pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OH. MY. GOD. Karen wasn't kidding about wanting to be Frank's parter in everything. It never ceases to amaze me when characters take the plot in a completely different direction than I expected. I know I'm leaving this on another dreadful cliffhanger, but I am already working on the next chapter, so you will have it in the next two days. #SorryNotSorry Have a wonderful weekend, friends! I will be back very soon!**


	17. Karen Goes Home

She watched him stagger backward off the dock before falling into the Hudson with a splash. Her eyes were riveted on the ripples and bubbles of his body sinking beneath the water, and nothing else mattered in that moment but waiting for him to sink out of sight.

“You good, doll?” Frank’s voice rumbled in her ear. She felt him run the back of his knuckles along the slope of her bruised cheek before he added, “What do you need?”

Karen dragged her gaze away from the dark waters of the Hudson and locked eyes with him. He was finally here, and he was he was safe. The hard planes of his face were splattered with blood and little cuts, and his shirt had been sliced open to reveal the ghoulish skull of his calling card visible to anyone who saw him. His hands were stained with drying blood and his gun was still in his right hand. He was an angel of death, a demon of light, and she loved every part of him.

Instead of answering him, Karen dropped her weapons to the dock, turned to him, and curled her fingers around the straps of his tack vest and kissed him.

His arm around her waist tightened, crushing their chests together, as she licked his bottom lip before plunging inside to taste him. He tasted like gunpowder, copper, and testosterone; he tasted like heaven. He wasn’t idle beneath her, either. He gave as good as he got, and Karen lost herself in his passion. He was her strength and her weakness; he was her salvation and damnation rolled in one.

“The rest of us are fine, too, thanks for asking,” David’s voice cut through their interlude with sarcastic, nasally tones.

Reluctantly, Karen pulled back from Frank’s lips and turned to verify his words for herself. David was a mess of rumpled and torn clothes, bloody face, and bruised hands, but his attacker was on the ground at his feet, out cold. Deshawna was cradled to Luke’s chest as she sobbed, and he comforted her with tender, but distracted, sweeps of his hand up and down her spine. Their attacker, too, was sprawled at their feet unconscious.

Frank answered first. “I never doubted it for a second, Lieberman.” He paused to shoot him a cocky grin. “You got something on your face there, buddy.”

David scowled and flipped him the bird, but he still lifted the hem of his shirt to dab at the stream of scarlet dripping from his nose. “Took you long enough,” Lieberman shot back nastily. “Did you seriously hot wire my car and just use it as a battering ram? I hate you so much, Frank.”

“No, I made a copy of your keys and used it as a battering ram. You’re welcome, by the way,” Frank replied drily.

Before they could begin an argument, Karen forced herself to snap into focus. She bent down to retrieve James’ handgun and carefully scrubbed away all traces of her fingerprints on the grip before tossing it back towards James’ limp hand. “We need to keep moving. The police will be here any minute, and there are still the women on the boat that need to be rescued.”

As if waiting for Karen’s words, the gangway retracted as sailors began shouting and pulling up anchor in preparation to leave port. Luke gently placed Deshawna aside and started to head that way, but Frank beat him to it. He snatched up James’ rifle, sighted down the barrel, and shot the remaining Judas bullet into the control room. A small explosion illuminated the night sky and the anchor fell once more.

“There. Problem solved. The cavalry will be here in less than two minutes, and they can take care of the rest. Our job is done here,” Frank announced, his tone brooking no argument.

Luke took several measured steps toward Frank and snarled, “Goddammit, Castle! There could be innocent lives working on that boat! What if the police don’t think to open those containers, huh? What happens if they wait too late and those people die without food and water?”

Karen bravely stepped between the two of them and said, “We can make an anonymous call, Luke. The police will rescue them and take care of them, I promise. We can’t do anything else here but get arrested. We all need to leave right now.”

Surprisingly, it was Deshawna that ended up swaying him. “I just want to go home. Please, Mr. Cage, I know how to keep my mouth shut. I won’t say nothing to no one, not even Tammy,” she sniffled pitifully. “Besides, ain’t no one gonna believe this shit even if I did tell them.”

Without a word of complaint, David resolutely searched his unconscious guard and liberated his cell phone and car keys from the man’s pockets before stomping past all of them toward his mangled car. Luke, ever the gentleman, scooped Deshawna up in his arms and jogged after him. When it was just Karen and Frank left remaining, she looked at him levelly and nodded her head.

Frank tipped his head in agreement, pulled his gun from its holster, and stepped over to the two unconscious guards sprawled close to Teddy James’ widening pool of blood. He pulled the trigger twice, shooting each of them in the chest. He bent down to dip his fingers in James’s blood and he drew a crude design on the dock before he rejoined her. He paused only long enough to kick the rifle into the water, and then he grabbed her hand and they ran for Lieberman’s car.

Thankfully, his car was able to start, and they piled inside quickly. David put the car reverse as Deshawna absurdly buckled her seatbelt in the front, and he sped out of the warehouse parking lot with the echoes of sirens getting louder and louder behind them. It was a tight squeeze in the backseat with Karen squished between Frank and Luke, but she didn’t mind. Frank had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder and breathed in the heady aroma of sweat, musk, and cologne that never failed to make her wet.

Thanks to Cage and Deshawna’s knowledge of Harlem streets, they were able to elude notice from the police, though they did raise some eyebrows of locals who saw the wrecked car trailing smoke down through their neighborhoods. During the ride, Karen found out how Jessica was doing, what happened at the building, and how they ended up at the docks. For their part, David did most of the storytelling, but thankfully, left out the part about Karen’s guard. She found out that Frank had heard enough of David’s warning to ensure they knew about the deadly Judas bullets, and that David had taken out his guard on his own. She even managed to smile at the smug confidence that accompanied his tale.

They dropped the exhausted young woman off at her apartment building, and she offered her sincere gratitude to Karen, David, and Luke, but she carefully avoided even looking at Frank. Karen tried not to take offense at her attitude toward him, but it still rankled.

After they pulled away from the curb, Frank said, “Cage, you mind asking your nurse girlfriend to patch up Lieberman and allowing him to crash on your couch for the night? I’ll take care of his car and get him a rental in the morning.”

“Oh, I don’t get a say in this?” David cut in huffily. “Nice, Frank. Real Nice. You involve me in your crazy bullshit, get me kidnapped and assaulted, and wreck my car before dumping me off on a stranger so you and Karen can go home to screw. Well, screw you, Frank!”

Karen squeezed Frank’s thigh in warning when she felt him tense up in preparation for a fight. He made a low growling noise in his throat, but he took a deep breath and released it before he said through gritted teeth, “I said I would pay for the repairs, and I meant it. I’ll even rent you a BMW until it’s fixed.”

David stewed in silence as he turned left according to Luke’s directions. Finally, he replied, “Fine, but I want a convertible with a backseat. I need a distraction, so Sara doesn’t ask too many questions.”

Frank rolled his eyes but agreed to the ridiculous demand. When they reached Luke’s building, all four of them piled out of the car to say their goodbyes. Frank clapped David on the back and Karen held her hand out for a shake to Luke. He studied her intently for the very first time and seemed surprised by what he saw in her. He shook her hand gently and rumbled, “Karen, thank you for helping keep Deshawna safe and helping to save the rest of them. You’re...different than I expected you to be.”

Karen shook his hand firmly and replied, “I get that a lot. Please take good care of David. He helped save our lives. He was the true hero today.”

Luke chuckled as David grudgingly accepted a bro hug from Frank before he made his weary way into the lobby of Luke’s apartment building. “Ain’t that it. I would have gone in blind if he hadn’t connected to Frank’s earpiece and told him about the Judas bullets. He’s a scrappy little dude. Don’t worry, we’ll patch him up and tuck him in with a stiff drink.”

Finally, Frank stepped forward, but neither man offered their hands for a shake. Frank’s lips twisted up in a smirk as he said, “It’s been real, it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun. I kept my end of the deal. I watched your back by getting ridding of the last Judas bullet, and I didn’t kill Teddy James. Oh, and don’t worry about getting blamed for all the dead folks. I took care of that for you, so that your shiny reputation can stay that way.”

Luke’s nostrils flared with checked temper and his voice rumbled low and deep in the late Harlem night. “Yeah, I saw what you painted on the wall back at the building. Looks like everyone’s about to find out that the Punisher ain’t exactly dead after all.”  He speared Frank with a hard, threatening glare before he added, “Our deal is over. Don’t ever come back to Harlem again, or I’ll will personally take you back out of it.”

Without another word, Luke Cage spun on his heel and followed David inside.

Frank held the front passenger door open, and Karen slid inside. Once he was back behind the wheel of David’s ruined car, he pulled into traffic and headed toward Hell’s Kitchen. The silence between them was tense, but comfortable, and neither of them seemed to know what to say. When twenty minutes had passed, and they were nearing his apartment building, he finally broke the silence.

“How’s your cheek feel, doll? You’re going to have a hell of a shiner tomorrow,” his voice cut into her thoughts.

Absently, Karen gently touched her right cheek and felt a twinge of pain, but it was muted by the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “It’s fine. I can barely even feel it.”

He pulled the smoking car into the parking garage next to his building and turned the engine off before he turned to face her. Karen met his gaze willingly and couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of his face half in shadows. He was so powerful and handsome, smart and sexy. She wanted nothing more than close the apartment door behind them and kiss him again. She wanted to touch him and know that he was alive, and she wanted to feel him and know that he was hers.

“Did they hurt you, doll?” he asked, his voice pitched so low she almost didn’t hear it. “Did they touch you?”

Karen didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to waste time reliving it, but she needed to put his mind at ease. She reached out to trace the lush curve of his bottom lip as she answered, “I’m all in one piece, Frank, and the only one who tried to touch me is dead. Let’s go home.”

Relief warred with fury in his expression until Karen decided to replace it with a different emotion altogether. She pushed his chin down with her thumb and swept into his mouth with a fiery kiss that telegraphed exactly what she needed from him. He kissed her back, groaning low in his throat, as she practically climbed in his lap to feel him. When he ran out of breath, he pulled back to pant, “Okay, yeah, home sounds good. Let’s do that.”

Karen smiled against his neck where she was peppering lingering kisses along his jugular. “You always know exactly what I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Okay, that was crazy. I'll be back very soon with a bonus chapter before we jump into Frank's apartment and UDS. First, I've been dying to see what happened between Jessica Jones and Claire Temple! That is going to be awkward, tense, and uncomfortable for both of them, and I have to see it! Don't worry, the smut will follow, my friends! Have a great start to your week, and I will see you soon!**


	18. Bonus Chapter: Jessica Wears Flannel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This is a bonus chapter, because I just had to know what happened between Jessica Jones and Claire Temple when they were finally alone.**

“Well, take your pants off,” she said testily as she pulled latex gloves over her hands.

Jessica grimaced, but nevertheless unbuttoned her black jeans and peeled them over her ass and carefully down her legs before dropping them to floor. “Usually, you have to buy me a drink first before that happens,” she quipped in a lame attempt to diffuse the brewing hostility and awkwardness.

Claire scooted her chair closer to where Jessica was laying on the couch with layers of towels under her bleeding leg. She leaned in and removed the thick gauze that she had instructed Jessica to press to her wound and examined the area with clinical detachment. “From the smell of your breath, it seems several people already beat me to the punch,” Claire replied, her tone clipped. She maneuvered Jessica’s leg to assess the exit wound and announced, “It’s a through-and-through. Damn, I was really looking forward to digging a bullet out of your leg, too.”

Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her head was spinning from blood loss, alcohol consumption, and worry for her friends’ safety, and she could feel her system working overtime to try to repair everything at once. She needed to get this shit over with, so she could head home and detox in peace. “Sorry to disappoint you, Nurse Temple. Just slap a few stitches on each side, and I’ll be on my way.”

Claire snorted and rummaged around in the massive tool kit she’d retrieved from the closet. “Not before you answer some questions, you won’t. You can start by telling me how Luke ended up sleeping at your apartment last night.”

Jessica glanced over at the beautiful woman who got to kiss and touch Luke whenever she wanted and watched her reach for a syringe and vial. She held up her hand and slurred, “Don’t bother numbing me. It wears off too fast anyway.”

Claire raised a dark eyebrow, but she dutifully replaced the needle and lidocaine, and picked up a scalpel instead. “You sure about that? Because I have to make two small incisions in opposite directions on each wound in order to suture it closed evenly. It’s only two centimeters each cut, but it will still hurt like a bitch.”

Jessica swallowed thickly against the bile rising in her throat and her tone was unnecessarily harsh as she snapped, “Just do what you gotta do. I’ll be fine.”

The nurse paused for a moment, but finally shrugged before peeling the sterile packaging away from the shiny, silver scalpel. Without further ado, Claire leaned in close over the top wound, scalpel in her right hand and gauze in her left, and made the first cut. Jessica grit her teeth against the searing pain of her flesh splitting again, but she refused to make a sound. The second one was done quickly, and Claire set aside the scalpel and picked up the needle and thread. She held it up to indicate she was about to start, and Jessica nodded sharply for her to begin.

Claire held the wound closed between two blue-gloved fingers and began to sew with the other one. Jessica closed her eyes again as Claire deftly sewed her skin closed. “I’m waiting,” she reminded Jessica stonily as she pulled the thread through her skin.  

Jessica swallowed thickly past the burn of alcohol trying to come back up her throat and croaked, “There’s not much to tell. We were all at Karen’s apartment discussing the case, and I passed out on her couch. Luke offered to take me home, and I offered to let him sleep on the couch.”

The needle stabbed viciously into the skin surrounding the bullet wound, and Claire none-too-gently pulled the thread through once more. She glanced up from her work to catch Jessica’s eye and said flatly, “Luke doesn’t fit on anyone’s couch. How about you try the truth for once.”

Her stomach cramped, catching her off-guard, and she doubled over to gasp. She could feel the sweat beginning to bead along her hairline and under her arms, and she cursed herself for not buying another small bottle to keep in her coat. She refused to show weakness to the nurse, though, so she sat back up and schooled her features to reply, “You don’t know me well enough to make assumptions, lady. I never said he slept on my couch; I said I offered it. He slept in my bed.”

She knew it was a mistake to insinuate more had occurred, but no one had ever accused her of tact. Claire dropped the needle and thread and pushed her chair back to stand to her feet. Even though her Latina features were drawn in anger, Jessica could still the tears of hurt gathering in her eyes. “Did you fuck him? Just come out and say it, because I can tell that’s what you’re dying to do.”

Jessica’s hand shook with tremors as she lifted it to wipe away the sweat rolling down her temples. She was half naked, dripping blood and sweat, drunk, injured, and sitting on her ex’s couch while his girlfriend stood over her with clenched fists. She hadn’t felt this bad about herself in almost 24 hours. A new record.

With an effort of will, Jessica kept her stomach from evacuating its contents, swallowed the mouthful of saliva pooling in her mouth, and rasped, “No, I didn’t fuck him, and he didn’t fuck me. He slept in my bed, and I slept on the couch. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Luke cares about you, and I’m no one to him.”

She gasped as another, sharper, pain lanced through her stomach, and she clamped a hand over her mouth as she scrambled to her feet. Claire pushed her back onto the couch and leapt into action to grab the trashcan from the adjoined kitchen before racing back to Jessica’s side. She held the can steady, and Jessica leaned forward to vomit a fifth of cheap whisky and nothing else. Each time her stomach purged, her eyes watered and head pounded, and each time she gasped for breath, she inhaled alcohol, stomach acid, and rotten banana peels which would make her puke again. She had no idea how long she was trapped in the hellish loop, but throughout it all, Claire Temple rubbed her back and held back her hair.

When she finally pulled away from the trash to collapse against the couch, Claire wordlessly stood up and removed the trashcan. Jessica closed her eyes against the pain of her head pounding and the mortification of Luke’s girlfriend witnessing her detox. Vaguely, she could hear the nurse rummaging around in the kitchen, but she was too preoccupied with the shivers quaking her body to wonder what she was doing. She cracked her eyelid enough to see the goosebumps on her legs and the half-sewn bullet wound sluggishly leaking blood before it grew too heavy for her to keep open. She shivered even as sweat beaded on her skin and rolled down to soak her clothes and Claire’s couch.

A cool touch of cloth to her forehead gave her the strength to open her eyes to slits. The nurse was running a cool washcloth over her face, lips, and neck in with practiced, yet careful, motions before she tucked a pillow behind Jessica’s head. Her eyes slid closed once more when Claire began to dig through her tackle box, and she didn’t bother opening them when she felt the tip of a thermometer in her ear, but that didn’t stop Claire from shining a penlight in her eyes, too. Jessica groaned as a razor of pain sliced through her brain, and she feebly swatted the light away.

“What have you eaten today?” Claire asked, her tone brooking no argument.

Jessica was too weak, too broken, to bother with anything but the truth. “I ate two blueberry cake donuts for lunch. I had a fifth of whisky for dinner.”

Claire hummed, clearly unimpressed. “Did you use your powers tonight?”

She wished she could nod instead of speaking, but she was afraid her head would fall off if she did. “Yes, both jumping and strength.”

Claire didn’t say anything for a long moment. Jessica heard her pick something up, but she was shocked when she felt a small ceramic plate shoved into her left hand. Jessica’s eyes popped open, and she looked down to see a simple sandwich of white bread and peanut butter balanced on her bare legs. Before she could fully process the significance, Claire filled her right hand with plastic cup of water.

“Eat that entire sandwich, but only take small sips of the water,” Claire ordered, her eyebrows lowered as if expecting a challenge.

Jessica mustered what little energy remained and gave her one. “I can’t eat this!”

One dark eyebrow arched. “Are you allergic to nuts?”

Jessica was thoroughly confused, and that made her angry. “No, I’m not allergic to peanuts. I’m drunk and just puked my guts up. I’m pretty sure eating would be a bad idea.”

“No, your body is trying to tell you that it needs fuel,” Claire countered, both anger and compassion lacing her tone. “Not only did you fail to eat enough today, but you also drank excess alcohol and used an extreme amount of energy utilizing your powers, not to mention the blood loss. Your chemistry is advanced, but it is still at the mercy of mortality. In short, you need to eat and rehydrate in order to kick start your healing process. You need protein, and I thought peanut butter and water would go down easier than leftover meatloaf and milk.”

The plate shook in Jessica’s hand, and the plate rattled until the sandwich was half off the plate. “Luke just gave me some aspirin. How sure are you about this?” she asked dubiously.

The anger was gone from her face, and the lines around her expressive brown eyes deepened with a genuine smile. “You can’t have aspirin, because you have two holes in your leg that won’t stop bleeding. As for being sure...I’m not. It’s just an educated guess. It’s up to you if want to believe in me or not.”

With hands that weighed a hundred pounds, Jessica picked up the lunch of her childhood and brought it to her lips. She waited for her stomach to rebel when the scent of crushed peanuts hit her nose, but instead it growled. Jessica’s gaze flew to Claire’s, and the nurse just smirked with superior confidence. The first bite of the sandwich tasted wrong on her tongue as the soft bread and smooth spread mingled with the aftertaste of her retching, but the second one tasted like nirvana. In two seconds flat, she went from pain and misery to ravenous and parched. It took only three minutes to finish the sandwich and the entire cup of water, and when she was finished, she only wanted more.

As if reading her mind, Claire said, “I’ll make you something more substantial to eat after I finish stitching you up.” She prodded the edges of the half-sewn bullet hole on the top of her thigh and said, “See? You’ve already stopped bleeding.” Without waiting for acknowledgment from Jessica, she picked up the discarded needle and thread, sanitized it with alcohol, and resumed stitching the wound closed.

Jessica could do nothing more than watch her. She didn’t understand why Claire was helping her. Jessica had certainly never done anything to engender her good will. And yet, she had done nothing but drop everything, including work, to tend to her wounds and nurse her through detox. By all rights, Claire should have flat refused to help her, or at least thrown her out of her apartment, but she had done neither. Instead, Claire Temple was nursing her back to health. For some reason, that made Jessica hate herself even more.

“Does this happen every time you drink? Full detox like that?” Claire asked, pausing in her sewing to glance up at her.

Jessica looked away quickly and willed her angry stomach to quit growling. She cleared her throat and answered honestly, “Not every time. It only started happening after...,” she trailed off, her mouth unwilling to form his name.

“Kilgrave,” Claire supplied for her. “That kind of emotional trauma would have caused you to drink more and eat less, but from what I hear, you’ve been using your powers even more. You are draining your body and putting nothing back in it but poison. You are killing yourself by inches, Jessica.”

It was only when it returned that Jessica realized her headache had faded. Her eyes smarted, her nose itched, and her throat swelled with the force of emotion that battled to escape, but she held on tight out of long practice. “Is that your professional opinion, Nurse Temple?”

Claire snipped the thread on the top wound, applied a bandage, and motioned for Jessica to roll to her stomach for easier access to the exit wound. As she threaded a new needle, she answered briskly, “Yes, as a trauma nurse of over fifteen years, and as a medic to superpowered individuals for over two, I am telling you that you will die if you don’t stop drinking. Even worse, people you care about could die if you don’t.”

Jessica flinched for the first time, and Claire hadn’t even begun the incisions with her scalpel yet. She still cowered from the naked truth of her words, especially since Karen had been taken on her watch. If Jessica had been sober, Karen and David would still be safe, and they would all be eating dinner together somewhere by now, celebrating the success of their mission. Instead, she was sidelined with a bullet wound, puking her guts out, while the men raced away to save the only two people in the world that were still on speaking terms with her. Karen and David were in danger because of her, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. All because she couldn’t handle the fucking depression that sucked on her soul like a vampire and had decided to drink it away instead of treating it.

Jessica turned her head to face the couch and neither of them spoke for the fifteen minutes it took for her to suture the exit wound and apply a bandage. “There you go, all patched up. The bathroom is the first door on the left, and the towels are under the sink. You get cleaned up the best you can without getting those bandages wet, and I’ll grab you some clean clothes.”

Jessica didn’t move or speak, but tears leaked from her eyes to soak the pillow beneath her cheek. “Don’t...,” she paused to clear her throat and began again, “Don’t be nice to me. It never works out well.”

Claire’s fingers closed around her arm, and she hauled Jessica up off the couch and dragged her toward the bathroom like a recalcitrant child. “I do not have time for your melodramatic ass, Jones. I have a feeling you won’t be my last private patient tonight, not with Frank Castle involved. He won’t stop until everyone standing between him and Karen are dead, and casualties will follow. You can either step up and be a part of this team with me or go home and let your friends down again. The choice is yours.”

There it was: the elusive offer of redemption despite the terrible things she had done in her life. Only one other person had bothered to reach out to her despite the death and destruction that followed in her wake, and Karen was now at the mercy of men with guns because of it. Resolve hardened her spine, she lifted her chin, and she said, “I need to help them. I can’t just sit here and hope that they are okay. If you can just lend me some pants—”

Claire brushed past her down the hall and entered a small bedroom. Her voice rang out loud enough for Jessica to hear. “I’ll lend you some pants, but your ass isn’t going anywhere. I’m benching you, Jones. Frank and Luke can handle it, and we both know Karen can take care of herself. They’ll all be back here in no time.” She emerged from her bedroom carrying a pile of flannel.

Jessica was speechless as she dumped the material in her arms, and all she could do was blink at the blue-checkered flannel pajamas in dawning horror. “These are pajamas,” she stated redundantly. “I can’t wear these home, much less go help my friends while wearing checkered pajamas with black lace trim.”

Claire’s smirk held a touch of malice as she replied firmly, “No, but you _can_ wear them to get some food ready while I prepare for possible casualties. Other than that, the best thing you can do to help our friends is to take care of yourself first. Plenty of rest, frequent calorie-rich meals, and abstinence from alcohol are just the first steps. Depression and emotional trauma can’t be cured or treated by your fast metabolism, Jessica, but it can be managed through therapy and medication.”

Even though she was still half-clothed, Jessica felt laid bare before her. It was too much to handle, and the weight of expectation threatened to weaken her knees. Grasping for her last line of defense, Jessica whispered, “Is that your professional opinion, Nurse Temple?”

Claire moved past her into the bathroom and liberated a fluffy towel and washcloth from the cabinet and placed them in easy reach of the sink. “No, that is my personal experience speaking to a friend. Don’t look at me that. In order for this to work for all of us, you and I have to be friends.” She pushed Jessica into the bathroom and shut the door behind her before she added loudly, “You’re sleeping over tonight. Gotta keep your friends close, right?”

Jessica stared at the closed door and tried to figure out how she had managed to be here in this place. It was weird and unnatural, and she didn’t know how to handle this. How to handle _her_. “I thought the saying was ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’” she blurted without thought.

There was a beat of silence before her muffled voice replied, “Can’t it be both? Either way, you’re in no condition to be alone tonight. Just put the damn pajamas on and accept it. Mami’s chicken enchiladas aren’t going to heat themselves up, you know.”

 Jessica wanted to argue, and her mind urged her to sneak out and join the fight, but her stomach spoke loudest. She stripped her jacket, shirt, and bra off and used the washcloth to scrub at the dried red stains that marred the pale expanse of her leg. She shimmied into the well-worn flannel of the winter pajamas and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She looked fragile with her washed out complexion and limp hair, and bones protruded from flesh in places she’d never noticed before. Claire was right, and there was no more hiding from the truth. Jessica was going to die if she didn’t stop drinking, or someone else she loved would be hurt if she didn’t. It seemed like such a simple and easy decision to make, but it wasn’t so easy to do.

She shook away the daunting reality of sobriety and placed her hand on the doorknob. She wanted to help her friends, but she had to accept that she was nothing more than a hindrance at this point. She could either sneak out and take the subway back home wearing flannels, or she could accept the olive branch and make the best of it.

This time, the decision wasn’t simple or easy to make, but it was easy to open the door and limp to the kitchen to preheat the oven. Mami’s chicken enchiladas weren’t going to warm themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dang it, Claire Temple! Why do you have to be such a good person? I was really hoping for some epic blowout, but it just didn't turn out that way. Hope you guys are having an amazing week, and I will be writing the next chapter between Frank and Karen and delicious smut. HOORAY! See you soon!
> 
> P.S. I will answer everyone in the morning. I just finished this chapter and it's almost midnight. Yawn...**


	19. Frank Stakes His Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Here's that Unnecessiarily Detailed Smut I promised! You're welcome.**

As they walked to his apartment building, Frank liberated his cell phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial for his boss. It rang three times before it was answered on the fourth.

 _“Since I already told you that I don’t have a job for you today, I’m guessing you’re calling because you have one for me,”_ the feminine voice rasped without greeting.

Frank’s lips quirked up with a smile as he answered, “That’s why you make the big bucks, Con. I’ve got a car that needs body work and full detail, and some laundry service. It’s time-sensitive.”

A soft, amused snort filtered through his earpiece. _“I had a feeling you would call after I heard the chatter on the scanners. I take it you just got back from Harlem, then? Either you have a copycat, or El Castigador ya no est_ _á muerto.”_

Frank glanced over to see if Karen was paying attention to his conversation. Ever since she’d shot Teddy James, she’d been in an unpredictable mood. She was too calm, too controlled, after what she’d been through this night, and Frank wasn’t sure how to react. He would’ve chalked it up to shock, but there was no disconnect when she kissed him. Even now, her hand trailed down his back and over his ass as they walked arm-in-arm to his building, but her gaze was unfocused and far away.

“Yeah, that was me. I couldn’t take the chance someone else would get the blame,” Frank explained as carefully as possible.

Connie’s tone turned serious. _“You know that painting that skull on the wall is going to make it more difficult for me to secure jobs for you, right? The last thing you need is to draw attention to yourself. There are still some very powerful people that know who you are and that you are still alive. My profit margin will plummet if you go back to jail.”_

Frank knew that, but he also knew that Harlem needed a hero more than he needed anonymity. They needed Luke Cage to be their hero, and heroes didn’t kill. “Don’t worry about it, Con. I’ll handle it. Just line up another job for me, and you can take the whole fee for your inconvenience.”

 _“Hmm,”_ she hummed, clearly pleased with the deal. _“Looks like my profit margin just shot up again. The car in the same place as last time?”_

Frank nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, the keys are in the visor, and I’ll leave the bag of clothes outside my door. I’ve got company tonight.”

Frank held the phone away from his ear as Connie snorted with laughter. _“Tell Karen I said ‘hello.’ We’ll be there within the hour.”_

He ended the call without comment and slid the phone back into his coat pocket as they entered the elevator together. Karen pressed the button for his floor without comment, but as soon as the doors slid closed, she turned to him and pressed him against the wall. She bit and licked along the column of his throat, and his cock pulsed against the zipper of his jeans. She found his lips next, and she moaned into his mouth as her tongue slid inside to tangle with his own.

She felt so fucking good pressed along his body, and she tasted like sugared adrenaline and spicy desire. When she boldly ran her hand down over his straining zipper, he sucked in a breath and clenched her waist tighter, and she answered by sweeping her tongue over his bottom lip as she squeezed his cock with a firm grip.

 _BING!_ Karen broke away from him as the elevator doors slid open, and she left him standing there as she waltzed out and headed for his door. Frank remained propped up by the wall of the elevator, panting for breath, until the doors started to slide closed on him. He pried them back open and followed after her. By the time he reached her, she already had the door open and had walked inside.

Frank shut the door and watched her warily, not exactly sure what to do. Karen, however, didn’t seem to have that problem. Without being told, she retrieved a large black trash bag and shook it open before placing it neatly in the floor. With quick, precise motions, she popped off her shoes and socks and placed them in the bag along with her jacket. Next, she walked over to him and began divesting him of his own jacket before she methodically started stripping him of weapons. Her expression was serene, but attentive, as she unfastened his holsters, liberated his knives, and emptied his pockets. The only time she paused was when she released his tack vest. She traced the long teeth of the skull painted on it’s front with a fond smile and placed it reverently on the kitchen table.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the hell out of you undressing me, doll, but it would be quicker if I did it myself,” he said. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had undressed him, and he felt strangely guilty about being on the receiving end of such treatment.

Karen placed his weapons on the bar-top counter and returned to him only to kneel at his feet. Her nimble fingers plucked at the laces of his boots, and she slid them off his feet easily. “We’ve got plenty of time, and I want to do it. I want you to keep your hands to yourself and let me do everything. You can return the favor when I’m done.”

He didn’t think his cock could get any harder, but he found out differently when she finished peeling his socks off, rose up to her full height, and reached for the button on his jeans. His abs tightened on instinct against the brush of her knuckles, and his cock swelled as if sensing freedom was close. “Oh, I plan to, doll,” he promised her, his voice tumbling like rocks in a stream.

Even as his hands shook with adrenaline, fear, and lust, Karen’s were steady, confident, and thorough. She didn’t hesitate to release the button and lower the zipper on his pants, but that was as far as went before she diverted to his shirt. Her hands were warm against his skin as she skimmed up the sides of his rib cage, taking his shirt with her. Obligingly, he bent his head to make it easier for her to pull it over his ears, and she tossed it toward the garbage bag. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as she ran her hands over the muscles of his pecs on her way to mapping the tense muscles of his back while she hummed in appreciation. When she reached the waistband, her hands slid beneath his jeans and boxer briefs until she was cupping the cheeks of his ass in her palms.

Frank’s hands turned into fists to keep from reaching out to touch her. “You’re killing me here, Karen,” he warned her as she licked and nipped at his clavicle.

“Sorry, not sorry,” she whispered in his ear before she shimmied his jeans and underwear down his hips until they pooled at his feet.

Frank started to step out of them in his haste to reciprocate, but she stopped him by dropping to her knees. He froze in place as her kiss-swollen pink lips lined up with the tip of his cock, and he held his breath as they parted. Her breath washed over him, hot and humid, and he silently willed her to close the scant inches between them, but she did not heed his call. Instead, she carefully lifted each of his legs to free him of his remaining clothing. She studiously gathered his clothing, socks, and boots and placed them inside the trash bag before she turned back to him.

“I guess I’m next,” she said, the light of challenge twinkling in her beautiful blue eyes.

No one had to tell him twice. It took two steps to bring him close enough to touch her, and his hands tremored against the blood-stained fabric of her pale green sweater. He searched her gaze for signs of shock or trauma, but he saw only warmth and anticipation in her eyes. Her right cheek was already swelling, turning the skin beneath her eye purple. Rage churned in his guts, and his fingers tightened on her arm reflexively as he imagined his hands wrapped around Teddy James’ throat.

“We’re not doing that right now, Frank,” Karen’s soft, even tones interrupted his thoughts. “We’re doing _this_ ,” she clarified helpfully as she gripped and stroked his cock. She effectively snapped him out of his wrath and back into the moment. As if nothing had happened, Frank gripped the hem of her sweater and tugged it off over her head.

He paused to trace the swell of her breasts through the custom-made tack vest he’d commissioned for her. With Murdoch still missing in action, Daredevil’s tailor still needed to make money to take care of Betsy, and Frank hadn’t felt a bit guilty about supplying it. Melvin had made him several custom pieces over the past four months, including Karen’s vest, and they were worth the hefty price tag. Nothing short of a Judas bullet would ever pierce Karen’s heart.

He made short work of releasing the straps and placed it carefully on top of his own suped-up vest before he returned to divest her of a clinging, white tank top. He forced himself to ignore the fresh bruises that were blooming across the creamy expanse of her bare skin and focused instead on the lush curve of her breasts peeking from the tops of her white lace bra. He didn’t trust himself to remove it just yet, so he mapped the valley of her waist his hands instead as he headed unerringly for the button on her jeans.

He popped the button and lowered the zipper, but he didn’t have the patience to wait before seeking out his goal. She made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat when his hand slid down the plane of her belly and beneath the fabric of her panties until he felt crisp curls against his fingertips. He didn’t stop until he could feel the scalding, slippery lips of her pussy bathing his fingers, and he closed his eyes and moaned as she rocked into touch.

“That’s not fair,” she complained even as she shamelessly rubbed herself against his seeking fingers. “I didn’t tease you like this.”

Frank held her up with his free arm around her waist, and he reveled in the slick heat of her with the other. He found the small bud of her clitoris, and he pressed and rubbed it on the glide of her arousal until her legs trembled. Only then did he withdraw from her panties and calmly resume undressing her. “I’d say that makes us about even now,” he said smugly, dropping to his knees.

He didn’t say anything about the rules when she braced herself with a hand on his shoulder while he helped her out of her jeans and panties. He could barely concentrate on removing the remainder of her clothes, because he was now eye level with her pussy. He could smell the musk of her sex, and his mouth flooded with saliva like Pavlov’s dog. He wanted to lean in and sink his tongue inside her, but she slipped away from his hold before he could lower his head.

“Oh, no,” she warned him as she scrambled to stuff the rest of their clothes and shoes into the bag. “I am not getting interrupted by one of Connie’s goons looking for the dry cleaning,” she explained as she hastily doffed her bra. She stuffed it into the bag, too, pulled the ties tight, and marched naked to his front door, opened it, and deposited it outside. She closed and locked the door, and she glanced at him over her bare shoulder with a promise in her brilliant eyes.

All Frank could do was watch her breasts sway in tandem with her hips as she closed the distance between them once more. Her lips were parted, tongue tip sweeping across her lip, and her pale pink nipples were hardened to small points that Frank desperately wanted to taste. He managed not to grab for her when she stopped a breath away from touching him, leaned in, and whispered, “Fuck me, Frank. For god’s sake, fuck me now.”

All restraint flew out the window, and he moved. She met him in the middle and threw her arms around his neck as he gripped her thighs and hoisted her around his waist. Her feet locked at the small of his back, and their lips fused together in a heated kiss as he propped her back against the door for leverage. He couldn’t stop his hips from moving and his cock from sliding between the slippery folds of her sex as she tugged at his hair and bit at his lips. She was so fucking warm, so fucking beautiful, and she was so fucking _wet_.

With a tilt of his hips, his cock found her entrance and he sank inside of her with one firm, smooth thrust. She tipped her head back and cried out when he bottomed out, and he took advantage of the opportunity to lick and bite along the pale, slender column of her throat. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he growled in her ear as he withdrew and thrust deep again.

Her fingernails scored the skin on his shoulders as she struggled to match the pace of his hips with her own. “Promise me,” she panted as he sank his cock into her wet heat over and over again. “Never let me go.”

Just like that, all measure of control was lost to him. His world narrowed down to just her, and all he could think about was the broken whimpers bubbling from her throat, the scent of blood and her shampoo, and the feel of her tight sheath squeezing him to the point of madness. His thrusts grew faster and harder, and he caught her cries between his lips. He fucked her mercilessly, tattooing his claim from the inside, and branding himself on her body with every rough kiss that broke vessels beneath her skin. Every time his cock struck the end of her, his brain thought _Mine... Mine.. Mine..._ until his lips echoed the refrain.

“You’re mine, Karen Page,” he snarled, his right hand buried in the hair at her scalp as he held onto his control by a thread. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Her pussy tightened like a vice around him, and a wail ripped from her throat as her muscles tensed and released around him. He refused to let go of his own climax, determined to prolong hers as long as possible, but he only made it a few more thrusts before he spilled himself as deep inside of her as he could reach. He closed his eyes and reveled in each wave of painful bliss that washed over him, and he wished he could sink inside her even deeper. The depth and scope of his feelings for her bordered on obsession, and he was already thinking about fucking her all over again.

His breaths steamed her neck where he buried his lips to kiss and suck at her salty skin, and her pulse thundered between his teeth as she slowly swiveled her hips luxuriously against him. “Only yours, Frank,” she whispered in his ear. “Only yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I could write so many, many sex scenes between these two, but there are only so many hours in the day. Sigh... Looks like there's only one more chapter of this story, two if you count the bonus chapter I plan to write at the end. This has been a long, but rewarding journey, and I am so happy that you guys hung in there with me. Y'all are the bees' knees! **


	20. Frank Comes Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **And....some more UDS**

Frank watched the blood-tinted water roll down their bodies as they stood beneath the shower spray together. With methodical precision, he ran the soap over Karen’s familiar curves and catalogued each bruise and contusion that marred the pearly perfection of her skin and cursed each one that he had not placed there himself. She was pliant in his arms with a dreamy smile turning her lips and eyelashes quivering with suspended drops of water. She was still an enigma to him, a mystery that he never wanted to solve so he could spend the rest of his short life trying. Karen was both smoke and light, softness with sharp edges, and he had no idea what the fuck she saw in him. He could only be grateful that she liked what she saw and do his damndest to deserve her.

“You wanna talk about it?” Frank rumbled cautiously as he ran his soapy fingers through her sex.

Karen hummed and widened her legs to give him more room before replying, “Yes, I do want to talk about it. How long have you been working for Connie?”

Frank’s fingertips stilled where they were exploring the swollen opening of her pussy. “That’s not what I was talking about, doll, and you know it.”

Karen reached down to grasp his wrist and tug his fingers from her body before stealing the soap from his unresisting hand. She rolled the bar between her palms, and when satisfied with the resulting lather, she proceeded to wash him instead. “There’s nothing to discuss about that, Frank. Bad guys did bad things, and I killed them for it.” She paused to run a single fingertip over his nipples before adding, “I’d much rather talk about your new job that you failed to mention to me despite the fact that we see each other almost every single day. Why don’t you tell me about that?”

Frank’s brain split between the enticing swirl of her touch and the defensive walls that tried to slam closed between them. He fought the instinctive urge to evade and withhold, but a lifetime of behavior wasn’t quick to change. He knew he should have told her about it months ago, but it was easier to revert to known protocol than to be honest and upfront with her. Part of him was still afraid that she would leave him if she knew the harsh reality of who he was, no matter how many times she had proved the exact opposite. His experiences in life had told him that if it was too good to be true, then it wasn’t. Karen had proved herself the exception to the rule... so far. One day soon, though, he truly believed she would come to her senses and leave him.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” he threw her words back at her stonily. “I don’t work for Connie, not really. I’m more of an... independent contractor.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her tone indicating her skepticism. “Is that what they call hitmen these days? Independent contractors?”

Frank stiffened beneath her still-roaming hands. “I’m not just a hitman, doll. I work security details more often than not, but sometimes, there is a target that someone needs eliminated,” he confessed despite the warning bells sounding in his brain.

Karen was silent for a long moment as she shifted until she was able to reach his back. Her hands continued their soapy progress with her cheek resting against his chest as she finally asked, “Do you get to pick which jobs you take, or does Connie get the final say? How much commission does she make off each job?”

Frank’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. He hadn’t expected her to accept the news with such calm, accepting questions. He had expected raised voices and condemnation or tears and thrown objects. That was how he and Maria had coexisted with each other, and that was how it had been for his Ma and Pop. He’d never dreamed that a relationship could be a true partnership of mutual support, and it rocked him to his foundations each time Karen made it come true.

He cleared his throat and replied warily, “I take whatever jobs I want. Connie operates more like my agent. She presents me with opportunities, negotiates the price and terms, and I either say yes or no. Connie gets 25% of each job, but it’s worth it. She does all the talking, and all I have to do is show up and do the job.” He swallowed thickly as silence descended between them before he blurted, “I’m making a hell of lot more money than in construction, and I make my own hours. I’ve, uh, already paid your rent for the next twelve months.”

Her hands stopped, and he braced himself for her reaction. She blinked the water from her luminous blue eyes and her tone was incredulous as she exclaimed, “You what? Frank, that’s over fifteen thousand dollars! It’s too much... you should save... I don’t need...” she trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

Frank reached down and turned the knobs to stop the shower, but he did not push back the curtain just yet. Instead, he gathered her against his chest and closed his eyes to stamp the feel of her bare body against his own. Her arms wound around his waist, pulling their hips closer together, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They stood like for long moments as unsaid declarations and overwhelming emotions cycled through each of them, but she didn’t have to say anything at all. He already knew how she felt about him, but he had been negligent in giving her the same assurance.

“We’re partners, right? That’s what you said,” he reminded her roughly. “That means that we’re in this together. I figure we each keep our own apartment, but they belong to both of us. In fact, I’m thinking we need a third place, too. Maybe a safe house or base of operations.”

He couldn’t tell if the tracks of water streaming down over his shoulder were from her wet hair or her eyes. Her voice did not waiver, though, when she replied softly, “I think that’s a great idea, Frank. We may need it now that the world knows that The Punisher is no longer dead. I understand why you painted those skulls, Frank, but protecting Luke’s reputation could cost you everything. It could _us_ everything.”

Frank drew her face up with his hand until they were locked eye-to-eye. He wanted her to see the truth in his eyes as he said, “There will be questions from Homeland Security, but they got no proof I was anywhere near Harlem. Lieberman scrubbed our digital footprints, and we left no credible witnesses alive to corroborate it. I was careful, doll, because I’m not just protecting myself anymore. I’m protecting you, too.”

She leaned in to press a slow, lingering kiss against his lips, but before he could take it further, she pulled back. “Good. We’re on the same page then. We can stay that way if we’re honest with each other. I want everything, Frank, and I won’t settle for less. Believe me, you will get back what you give to me a hundredfold. Let me protect you, love you, and take care of you, too. It’s so much better if we’re both giving a hundred percent.”

Frank’s throat swelled, and his thumb shook against the curve of her injured cheek. “You love me? You sure about that, doll?”

Karen closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned into his touch. “Of course, I do. I started falling in love with you the first time we met. I haven’t stopped falling yet.”

It was too much for him to bear, and the words backed up in his throat. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but it wasn’t enough, and it couldn’t possibly convey how he felt about her. He wanted to convey the swirling mass of emotions she inspired in him, but he didn’t know how.

Instead, he kissed her. He poured all the regret, fear, hope, and desire between her lips, and she answered him in kind. He was lost in the feel of her slick body sliding against his and the taste of fresh toothpaste on her tongue. He didn’t remember the journey, but it seemed like hours passed before they fell to the bed together. He needed to show her, needed to explain how he felt about her, but the only thing he knew how to do right was to use his body.

He started at her neck and sucked the moisture from her skin as he made his way down her chest until he reached her breasts. He squeezed and shaped them in his big palms, plucked at the hard tips until she cried out, before he finally sucked them into his mouth one-by-one. He gave her no quarter, no mercy, as he nipped, licked, and sucked on each breast until she begged him to fuck her. He ignored her cries and the sting of her nails on his back, and continued his journey south, pausing at her belly button to lap at the water trapped there, before he made his way to her slick center.

He cupped her ass in his hands and lifted her to his mouth, and she helped him by bracing her feet against the bed. He felt her fingers curl against his scalp as she gripped his dark curls, and her hips rolled her pussy closer to his mouth. Frank didn’t keep either of them waiting. With his gaze locked on hers, he lowered his chin and licked a long, leisurely strip up the center of her to prime the pump before he began to taste her in earnest. Her flavor exploded across his tongue, and his mouth flooded with saliva and her arousal. He traced her folds with tongue, sucked the swollen nub of her clit, and chased her pleasure all the way back to asshole. She squealed and bucked against him, but he heard no complaint as he teased the wrinkled muscle with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

“Frank, please, for the love of god, I need you!” she begged, her fingers tugging at his hair as he drowned her essence.

As if just realizing his own need, his cock pulsed and bobbed between his legs in complaint, so he moved back up her body until he was locked between the cradle of her thighs. Her legs wound around his own, and she used her leverage to press their hips together tighter. “Show me, Frank,” she panted in his ear, her words strained with urgency. “Show me how you feel.”

With a defeated groan, he tilted his hips until his cock found her opening, and he pushed inside her with a curse. “Goddamn, every time feels like the first with you,” he confessed raggedly as he thrust in and out of her at a maddeningly slow pace. “So fucking wet, so fucking tight,” he moaned as her sheath surrounded and squeezed his entire length over and over again.

“God, yes! Please, Frank, I’m so close,” she babbled as tried to use her leverage to force him to go faster, but he was not having it.

Instead, he held her chin captive with one hand for his kiss as he lifted one leg to open her wider for his slow, steady thrusts. He swallowed her whimpers, drank her pleas, as he continued to fuck her with deep, punishing thrusts. He rolled his hips with each stroke, ensuring her clit rubbed against his pelvic bone until her entire body began to shake and tremble against him. When she began to tighten around him like a vice, he pulled himself out of her sheath without warning, earning the wail of protest from her lips.

Her skin was flushed and beaded with perspiration, and her blue eyes were heavy-lidded with blown pupils. She was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen in his life, and he knew he would never tire of the chemistry between them. She didn’t protest when he eased her over to her stomach before pulling her ass up to meet his hips. His mouth watered at the sight of her glistening lips, swollen opening, and the tempting pucker of her asshole. He licked his thumb before pressing gently against the wrinkled muscle as he fed his cock back into her body, and her low moan of pleasure was swallowed by the pillow beneath her cheek.

As he fucked her, he continued to tease and circle the small opening on the glide of her arousal until she gasped, “Please, Frank!”

He had wanted to drag out this out, to fuck her and touch her and drive her crazy, but he wasn’t immune to the sweet sound of his name on her lips or the way her ass bounced against his hips with each thrust. He groaned deep in his chest as he moved faster, but his finger was gentle as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle until he was knuckle deep inside her ass. She braced herself on one arm as the other one snuck between her thighs to rub and swirl against her clit, and Frank thought he would lose his tightly-wound control when she pushed herself against him harder and faster.

A litany of curses and prayers streamed past her lips, cries of “Yes, Frank! Faster, harder, more!” urged him closer and closer to the brink, but he held on until she stiffened beneath him. He didn’t stop fucking her, instead driving into her faster, as her pussy clamped down on his cock and her ass gripped his finger while she came apart around him. He wanted to wreck her for anyone else, wanted her too exhausted to move, and he wanted her to feel him inside of her for days.

He eased his finger from her ass and used both hands to grip her hips to pull her back with each thrust until his climax roared out of his body with a yell. Wave after wave of shattering ecstasy exited his body to pool inside of her until he slumped over her sweaty back to breathe harshly against her neck. She never complained about his weight crushing her after sex, but he was always cognizant of her comfort.

Once his orgasm ebbed away, he eased away from her body to collapse at her side. Her gorgeous eyes were closed, her cheeks were pink with exertion and heat, and his cock twitched valiantly at the debauched picture she presented him. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured without thinking. “Thank you for loving me.”

Her eyelids cracked open and she offered him a tired, lazy smile. “Ditto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **We are so close to the end of this series, you guys! Waaaaah! The final chapter will be a Bonus Chapter from Jessica's POV as the Junior Avengers assemble one more time for dinner at Lieberman's. Have no fear, though! I will be back soon, but most likely with a collection of one-shots that will be strictly PWP, because I am not done writing Kastle porn. I'll be back soon with the final chapter, friends. Until then, have a wonderful week!**


	21. Bonus Chapter: Jessica Eats Lasagna

Jessica tugged at the hem of her cream-colored, lightweight sweater and nervously tucked a lock of her wayward hair behind her ear. She shifted from foot-to-foot as she paused on the threshold of David Lieberman’s home, and tried to convince herself that there was no reason to be anxious about having Sunday dinner with his family, especially since she been there several times before over the past four months, but she still couldn’t bring herself to ring the bell. This would be the first time she would see or talk to him since that crazy Harlem night over a week ago when he’d been brought to Claire’s apartment bruised and bleeding.

He’d been a mess when Luke had arrived practically carrying him through the door, and Jessica had hit rock bottom all over again as she blamed herself for his injuries. She’d watched quietly on the periphery as Claire had cleaned him up and bandaged his wounds, and her knees had almost given out when she’d realized that David looked much worse than he actually was, but that did not absolve her of her guilt. She’d wanted to run away from the consequences of her drinking, it was always the easiest solution, but she hadn’t been able to leave him there alone with strangers.

After Claire and Luke had disappeared into the bedroom to talk, Jessica had approached the cranky hacker with a bag of frozen peas draped across his nose. Much to her surprise, David had greeted her with concern and questions about her gunshot wound instead of condemnation and accusations. She didn’t know if it was the detox that had lowered her guard, or if it was the sheer relief that he and Karen were safe, but either way, she’d ended up on the couch with him as he’d shared his dramatic tale. By the time he’d finished, she was curled up on one end of the couch, and her bare feet were tucked beneath his pillow on the opposite end. They’d ended up talking for hours about Sara and the kids, Jessica’s clients, and anything else that came to mind. She’d even told him about her mom and Trish’s role in her death, and he’d never pushed for more than she was willing to give. It had been an unprecedented moment of intimacy to talk to someone else so openly, and the fact that it was with a married Jewish nerd from the suburbs had made her feel strangely safe. There was zero sexual chemistry between them, and that only made her trust him all the more.

After that night, he’d tried to call her several times, but Jessica had been too busy and too cowardly to answer him. She’d been both vastly relieved and disappointed when he’d texted that dinner was being postponed for a week of recuperation, because she’d needed the time and space to recuperate, too. Jessica had gone home and promptly emptied out every bottle of alcohol in her apartment and had thrown herself into work to keep from thinking about it. She’d even been too emotionally fragile to take Karen’s calls over the past week, but they’d texted a few times, enough at least to convince her friend that she needed some space. It had been a hard week of cravings and near capitulations, but she’d made it through without a single drink. She owed it to Karen and David, but most of all, she owed it to herself to get clean.

The door swung open, startling Jessica out of her thoughts, and David stood there with a raised eyebrow. “How many times do I have to explain about the security cameras? Are you coming in or what?”

The scent of tomato sauce, basil, and garlic tantalized her nose, and her mouth watered in anticipation. She pushed past her host, shrugging off her leather jacket in the process, before tossing it unceremoniously on the coat hook. “Whatever, Longmire. Maybe I was just admiring your car. It looks a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw it.”

David snorted derisively and shut the door. “Probably because it looks brand new. Didn’t you hear? I was carjacked in Hell’s Kitchen a week ago Friday, and my insurance company miraculously replaced it within the week. At least, that’s what I told Sara. In reality, Frank payed through the nose to have it fixed and delivered on Friday. I’m still fucking pissed at him, though.”

Jessica chuckled and replied, “Too bad he couldn’t do the same for your face. At least the bruises have faded to a lovely greenish-yellow.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you, asshole. Not all of us have your super metabolism and healing abilities, you know,” he replied with comforting crankiness. “Get your ass in gear. Dinner is almost ready, and you’re the last one to show.”

Jessica stopped abruptly at the entrance to the dining room as his words washed over her with prickles of warning. “What do you mean by that? I didn’t realize anyone else was coming.”

David gripped her elbow and hauled her ahead of him into the dining room before they came to a stop by the table. With mounting surprise, she glanced at the occupants and noted Sara, Leo, and Zach, but there were also three more people staring back at her. Karen’s eyes creased with a smile as she waggled her fingers in greeting, and next to her, Frank tipped his head in acknowledgment. The final dinner guest, however, pulled out the empty seat next to him and patted on it in invitation.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she blurted without thinking, forgetting everyone else in the room except Luke Cage.

There were several snickers and Leo clapped her hand over her mouth with gleeful horror. The first person that spoke, though, was David’s teenage son, Zach. “What the fuck are any of you doing here?” he asked rhetorically with a heavy roll of his eyes.

“That’s enough of that,” David chastised both of them as Jessica eased into the empty seat next to Luke. “Zach, you can sit and eat with the adults as long as you act like one, or you can take your plate to your room.”

The young man sighed heavily, but Jessica was too aware of Luke’s dark gaze on her to pay him attention. “No, seriously, what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice pitched low. “You barely know him.”

Luke smiled and held his wine glass up for Sara to pour a fruity, dark red vintage. “Nah, me and Micro are like this,” he teased, crossing his fingers. “How could I say no to free lasagna and chocolate cake?”

Sara paused at her side and tipped the bottle over her glass. Jessica almost let her do it, but at the last moment, she placed her hand over the fragile stemware. “None for me, thanks, uh, I’ll just stick with water,” she explained nervously.

Sara’s eyebrows shot up, but she graciously moved on to the next glass without a word. The rest of the table wasn’t nearly so polite.

“Jess, I’m so proud of you!” Karen gushed, her sapphire eyes twinkling with happiness. “How many days has it been now?”

Jessica cursed herself for confiding her sobriety during one of their brief texts over the last week. She hated being the center of attention, especially for something she wasn’t very proud of to begin with. Her eyes darted around the table, and everyone was riveted on her with the exception of Zach who was sneaking sips of wine from his mom’s glass. She cleared her throat and shrugged away their concern as she replied, “Going on ten days. It’s not a big deal, okay? Can we talk about something else, please?”

“You’re sober?” David’s incredulous tone cut into the conversation. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have served wine if I’d known, and now I feel like a fucking asshole for waving it in your face. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I would have helped, dammit!”

“You feel like a fucking asshole because you are one, Lieberman,” Frank chimed in, much to Zach’s and Leo’s delight. “Stop being a drama queen. This ain’t all about you. If Jones needs help, she knows who to ask for it. She’s got all our phone numbers in her speed dial.”

Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the subtle show of support from the psychotic killer with a heart of gold. She almost tipped over into tears when Luke leaned in to murmur, “You can do this, Jess. I’ll be right there anytime you need me.”

Damn her stupid emotions! She was desperate to pull herself together, because she was not going to let her friends down again. She blinked rapidly and held her hands up and announced, “Okay, the topic is closed. Leo, why don’t you tell me how school’s going or something?” She was beyond caring at this point if she came off as desperate, because she really was.

Apparently, that was all the invitation David’s young daughter needed, because she immediately launched into a breathless account of her favorite class as everyone started helping themselves from the dishes on the table. “Actually, this past week has been really exciting. My Social Studies teacher scrapped his lesson plan to focus on current events. In fact, we spent the whole week discussing you, Mr. Cage.” Jessica’s eyebrows flew up her forehead, and Luke choked on a bite of lasagna, but Leo was not yet done with her tale. “We read your article and watched the video in class on Tuesday, Miss Page. Do you mind if I ask you both some questions?”

“Leo!” Sara chastised her, scandalized. “You can’t just... I mean, it’s not polite to...,” she trailed off helplessly.

Karen covered her surprise well, and she didn’t hesitate to reassure the young girl. “Of course, I don’t mind answering any questions you have about journalism, but this is not my story, Leo. Not really. I just published someone else’s, so I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

Jessica held her breath to see what Luke would do, and he did not disappoint her. “I would be happy to talk to you about what you learned in class, Miss Leo. Asking questions is the best way to learn.”

Frank lifted his wine glass to his smirking lips, but everyone clearly heard him mumble, “Sucker.”

Leo’s attention shifted to Frank, and she said, “Oh, I have some questions for you, too, Pete—I mean, Frank. Were you the one that painted that skull graffiti where those missing girls were found? Did you kill all those men like everyone says you did?”

Jessica didn’t bother to tamp down her snort of laughter, and Karen joined in with her until their host finally asserted himself. “Okay! Let’s steer the conversation back to more kid-friendly waters, shall we? Leo, your questions can wait until after dinner, but you can only talk to Karen and Luke.” He shot a deathly glare at Frank, and Frank just glared back. “There is a perfectly delicious chocolate cake waiting for me after this dinner, and you guys are not going to ruin that for me.”

With grumbles and wordless complaints, everyone settled into their supper as Karen naturally took over the conversation. In no time, they were all talking and laughing as they passed around bowls of salad, baskets of garlic bread, and pans of savory lasagna. Surprisingly, Jessica found herself actually having fun as she and Frank took turns poking at David, Karen chatted animatedly with Sara, and Luke freely engaged Leo in a discussion over whether he would ever visit the nation of Wakanda someday.

Dinner flew by, and dessert was every bit as good as David had suggested. She even made a concerted effort to be nice to David’s wife, even though Jessica secretly believed he could do better. She had to admit that Sara was a damn good cook, though, and if she played her cards right, she could take advantage of that at least every three weeks. The cake was moist, and the icing was just the right mixture of bitter and sweet that hinted of dark chocolate, but all she could think about was how it would taste if she ate it off Luke’s abs.

After dinner, Luke was true to his word and answered every question Leo put to him, and he even consented to a posed selfie with her. That set off Leo’s inner photographer, and they were all pulled into her camera’s focus. Jessica hated having her picture taken, but she didn’t seem to mind it when Leo insisted on a shot of her and Luke together. Following Leo’s directions, she leaned in close to his chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her in. She could feel the heat of his body through their clothes, and she glanced up at him just as he was looking down at her.

She forgot to look back at the camera and smile, but then again, so did Luke. It took Leo chirping, “Okay, I got it! Pete—I mean, Frank, can I get one of you and Miss Page?” to bring them back to the present. Jessica was flustered, but she recovered quickly by excusing herself to the bathroom.

Once she was safely behind a locked door, she took slow, deep breaths until her pulse evened out and she felt better in control of herself. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror caught her gaze and she startled at the stranger peeking back her. For the first time in years, she looked healthy and... _happy_. Her cheeks were pink with color, her eyes were focused and clear, and she felt hopeful for the first time since she could remember. Even better, she had gone hours without thinking about taking a drink.

Luke was right; she could do this, but she didn’t need his help. He was just another addiction, another distraction from the pain and loneliness of her life, and she would not replace alcohol with him. No, the best thing for her to do was to leave now before temptation grew too strong. She was strong enough to resist the pull of Luke Cage’s arms. Claire was her friend now, too, and Jessica would not be responsible for ruining anymore lives, especially not those of her friends.

Mind made up, Jessica rejoined the casual dinner party and began saying her goodbyes. She started with Sara and ensured a future invite by once again complimenting her cooking skills before she moved on to Leo who gave her an impromptu hug. “I’ll text you the picture of you and Luke. I think you’ll like it,” the preteen girl whispered conspiratorially with a wink.

Jessica shook her head and moved on to the second hug of the night. Karen squeezed her tight and wouldn’t let go until Jessica hugged her back. Her best friend beamed at her with pure happiness exuding from every pore, and Jessica thought she had never seen another woman as beautiful as her. Karen said, “I guess we’ll need to pick a new meeting spot for Thursday nights now. How about we meet for Thursday pancakes at Cosmic Diner instead?”

Jessica chuckled and nodded. “That sounds really good. I’m always down for some pancakes. I’ll see you there.”

David was the next one to waylay her, catching her off to the side with obvious intent for privacy. His gaze darted from her to the kitchen where Sara was cleaning up, and back to her. “Listen, about the other night... that was all in confidence, okay? That means you can’t tell Karen, either. I’m serious, Jessica. Promise me that you won’t repeat it.”

Jessica couldn’t resist hyping him up when he was already wound tight as a coil, so she replied in a loud whisper, “Oh, you mean when you told me about the dream you had of Frank fucking both you and your wife?”

“Shhhh! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” David hissed, his terrified eyes darting around to see if anyone overheard. “God, you are such an asshole! I swear to you, if you tell anyone about that I will...I’ll...,” he stammered as he struggled to think of a suitable punishment.

Jessica sighed heavily. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Listerine. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I meant it. Your dirty, kinky little secret is safe with me.” She leaned in and pressed a quick, dry kiss to his cheek and continued toward the door with the intention of avoiding Luke for an uncomfortable goodbye.

Surprisingly, Frank stepped in her path on her way to the door, and they regarded each other warily. “Frank,” Jessica greeted him cautiously.

His expression was inscrutable in the dim light of the foyer, and his tone was reserved when he said, “Jones. Sobriety looks good on you, and Karen is happy. Keep it up, because she needs you. I think you need her, too.”

She thought about giving a smart ass reply, but she spoke the truth instead. “You’re right, Frank, I do need her, but so do you. I’ll keep doing my part to make her happy, and you do yours. If you think I’m fucking it up, I expect you to tell me, and I’ll do the same for you. We don’t have to like each other for both of us to love her; we just have to get along.”

His lips lifted in a genuine smile, and Jessica caught a glimpse of the attraction Karen felt for him. “I’m not gonna lie. It feels damn good to hear those three words coming from you,” he teased. “I just hope you remember them when I have to kick your ass back in line one of these days.”

Jessica snorted and pushed past him with more force than necessary, and he stumbled over his feet and bounced off the wall with a curse. She opened the door, and without looking back, she replied, “That’s cute that you think you can. See ya around, Big Dick Frankie.”

She thought she’d escaped from the house without his notice, but he proved her wrong when he materialized from the shadows to fall into step next to her. Luke didn’t say anything right away, so Jessica felt obliged to fill the tense silence. “Where’s Claire at tonight?” she asked, going straight for the jugular.

“She had to work,” he replied evenly as they walked along the dark, chilly street. “Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye to me?”

Jessica shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her leather jacket and ducked her head against the chilly spring breeze. “I tried, but it’s a moot point now.”

They walked in silence for several minutes before Luke said, “How’s things with Oscar going? He seemed like a nice guy.”

Jessica swallowed thickly and replied, “Yeah, he is a nice guy. That’s why I broke up with him. He deserves better than a train wreck like me, and I don’t need the distraction while I try to get my shit together. It’s better this way for both of us.”

He hummed deep in his chest before he remarked, “I, uh, kinda said the same thing to Claire last weekend. She’s been staying at her mom’s place for the past week ever since Karen’s story went viral. It’s safer for her to stay far away from me and the chaos that is my life. It’s not fair for her to be dragged into danger because of who I am. It’s not fair to be in a relationship with her when I still have feelings for you, complicated though they may be.”

Jessica’s heart pounded in her chest and the desperate craving for him grew louder with each step as her inner devil justified all the reasons it would be okay to have him one more time. She knew that Luke wanted her, too, but they were toxic for each other. She couldn’t give in to the addiction, not even once, or she would be lost all over again.

She stopped in her tracks, and Luke stopped, too. She reached up to gently feather her knuckles across his jaw as she whispered, “I won’t lie to you, Luke. I have feelings for you, too, but I am not in the right place to do anything about it. It’s taking all my strength and effort just to not take a drink right now, and I won’t replace one addiction with another. Go back to Harlem, Luke. Your people need you right now way more than I do.”

He captured her hand and used it to pull her into his arms. He held her chin steady with one hand and searched her eyes for answers. “Our story isn’t over, Jessica. I’ll give you some time and space, but never doubt that I will come back for you.” He leaned in, and she met him halfway for a slow, clinging kiss that set her body on fire. Reluctantly, he dropped his arms and stepped back from her before he added, “Stay safe and stay sober, Jessi. I’m just a phone call and subway ride away.”

Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and walked away. She watched him go, melting into the darkness of the suburban street, before she once again headed toward the bus station. For the first time in her memory, she didn’t feel desolate and depressed with no end in sight. Now, she felt hope and anticipation for what life held in store for her future. She was no longer alone, just her and a bottle of whisky against the world. Now, she had friends who would be there to fight with her and for her, and they made her stronger. She could do this alone, but now she no longer had to. She had a family once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I can't believe it's over! I just want to thank all of you for sticking with me to the end. I had a wonderful time bringing Frank, Karen, David, Jessica, and Luke to life and I hope all of you enjoyed it as much as I did! Don't be sad that this part is over, because I will be back very soon with some awesome ficlets featuring hot smut between Kastle. Woo hoo! Nothing like a little PWP to keep ya going! A big thank you to my amazing friend, CowandCalf, for her unfailing support and encouragement, and to Roza, Star, and other readers who took the time to comment and chat. You guys rock my socks off! Have a wonderful rest of your week, and I'll see you guys soon! Big love to you!**


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